Mixed Bag

It's such a mixed bag of feelings I get when I see you. Pain, joy, shame, fear, love, anger. So much shame that rips my heart apart. So much pain from the memories of being your friend. Emotions I never thought I'd feel towards you. But still you manage to do what you've always done.

You inspire me.

The dedication and perseverance I see in you for the things that are important to others is astounding. I watch you pour all you have into one small thing, accepting nothing less than perfection from yourself. You work tirelessly at one task, never stopping until you are satisfied. Your standards for what you do for others are set almost impossibly high, but you don't rest until they are met. You put your all into what is important to you. Others.

It's almost hard to watch. You make me look like a selfish pig, though some would argue that I do that myself. You stand head and shoulders above the rest of us for this. Any love I feel for you pales next to the love behind your actions for others. You shame me further simply by being true to God and true to yourself.

You're still my hero. I wish I could tell you that. If I weren't such a coward, I'd have a hard time not telling you every time I see you. I love you, I care dearly for you, and I miss you more than any word in any language could speak.

I wish I could die for you.

Go Away

So I fucked up. Big deal. Do you really have to make me feel like shit? My failing doesn't affect you anyway. Why do you care enough to flip out and put me down?

I'm well aware of my failings. Leave me the fuck alone.

Nostalgia

I haven't seen you in a month but one thought of you sneaks into my head and my heart skips a beat. How do you still do that?

2:48 a.m.

It's that time of the week again. That make-or-break time where I can either have a good weekend ahead of me or a bad one. It's 2:48 Saturday morning and I know already that I've got nothing to look forward to. The few friends I have are either away, working or just not answering my various attempts to see what they're up to. Maybe if I were a better person, more emotionally stable, I wouldn't be having such a tough time with this.

I go through my weeks alone. I have friends at work, and the interactions I have with them are always great, but it's at work. There's a different mental attitude in that building, something always in the back of my mind or hovering over my head. In the end, none of those interactions are very fulfilling at all. The real joy I get from spending time with my friends comes from spending time with them on the weekend. Even the time I have with my friends at church pales to the time I spend with them outside of the church, on our own time. Maybe it's because we all chose to be there. It's not in any way an obligation. In my mind, that makes the biggest difference. You chose to be with me.

No, I can't expect my friends to be around all the time. Obviously, I understand that they have other things to do, and really, I'm happy for any of them who are out having a good time. It's just kind of depressing to be heading into a two-and-a-half day period where I'm essentially going to see no one but myself. I spend enough time with me during the week. I'm not that great.

I never thought I'd say this but the sooner this weekend comes to a close and I can get back to work on Monday, the better. This loneliness is going to kill me.

Home Sweet Home

Just another Sunday morning, just another service at church. Having been at this church for over seventeen years, the days understandably blend together. But I wouldn't change anything for the world. This place is more my home than any house I've ever lived in. Many of these people are just as much my family as the family I was born into. I'd rather be here than just about any place on earth.

The week before, I skipped church to volunteer at an internet community event downtown. It was a lot of fun but I didn't realise the effect it would have on me to not be at church for one week. It was like I was cheating, like I ran away. Despite having a pretty good morning and afternoon downtown, I felt like I had missed out on a better time. And I'm sure I did.

But this realisation led to another. I haven't missed a day of church in years. I mean years. I've gone out with friends until three or four in the morning and not missed church. I've spent entire nights talking on the phone, hanging up after five, still to end up one of the first people in the building to prepare for the service. I'm not trying to brag here. I'm trying to paint a picture. I don't miss church.

The feeling I had the next Sunday was unlike anything I've felt in a very long time. It was like I had returned home for the first time in years. While no one batted an eye that I hadn't been there one day, I felt like it had been ages. And even when I discovered that some of my best friends hadn't come out that day, the happiness to be back where I feel most at home far outweighed any disappointment that clawed at my heart.

Now, I've put a lot of emphasis behind the social aspect of church, which is highly important, of course, but it was so good to be back serving and worshiping God in a place I know I belong. It was a comparably mild service next to our usual services, but it was incredible. Even though the music was slow and plain and lacked a beat, the words seemed to jump off the page and really mean something. It was incredible. Maybe the week I was away was for a reason. Maybe it was worth it.

Well, I'm ready to start my new attendance streak. But it's not for any gold star beside my name. It's not so everyone notices what a "good Christian" I am. It's so I never let myself fall into the trap where you say, "I can skip today. It's only one Sunday." It's so I don't forget who commands my life. It's so I don't forget where I come from and who my oldest, truest friends are. It's so I don't forget my home.

Home sweet home.

Esteemed

You know I love you right? I love you more than anyone I've ever known. I have for years and nothing will ever change that. Nothing. I know we don't talk anymore and we no longer do the things we used to do together, and that's my fault, but it can't change the way I feel about you. You were my best friend. No relationship I've had has ever come close to the one I had with you. You listened to me ramble on non-stop, you gave good, honest, Christian advice that never failed to be the right thing to do, you led me and pried, squeezed and pulled every bit of potential you could out of me to see me succeed.

You cared about me.

You loved me.

I know you probably don't love or care about me anymore. I've hurt you too much. But I want you to know, I still love you with all my heart. I've made friends since that day I planted my knife in your back, some of them have become very close, very dear to me. But no person can possibly ever replace you in my life, no matter how close they get.

I love you so much.

I miss you.

No Better Feeling

She looked up and saw me walk in. First surprise touched her eyes, then a smile. Joy in its simplest form.

There's no better feeling in the world than when someone is happy to see you. When a person sees you and their face lights up and they become visibly happier, it erases all sadness, all stress, all negative emotion going through your heart. You feel that same rush of adrenaline you feel when riding a roller coaster. You can't help but feel just as happy to see them.

Her smile spread to her lungs. "Steve!!!"

Hearing your name yelled with such excitement is a rush like no other. It's so out of the ordinary, so foreign, you almost don't know how to respond.

I turned and walked toward her, her contagious smile spreading to my own face. Turns out I'm happy to see her too.

Maybe it's not just yawns that are contagious. Maybe it's a person's mood, their state of mind that's contagious. Have you ever walked away from an interaction with someone not mirroring their anger or pleasant demeanour in that interaction? It's hard not to.

She took a step toward me and opened her arms wide invitingly, smile still beaming bright. It had been a while since I'd last seen her. We embraced. I almost forgot what it felt like to be cared about.

I think we take for granted the time we have with those we love. We become so accustomed to their presence in our lives. Sure, it makes the moment after a long absence so much more sweet, but I think we really need to learn how to truly appreciate our loved ones while they're still around. But even that isn't quite enough. We need to show that appreciation, whether it be through word or deed. Sometimes, it's the smallest of gestures that carries the most weight. It's the acts done with not much thought or preparation that show the most care.

Let's do it. Let's forget about the tough day we're having, forget that things aren't near as good as they could be. Let's show those we care about at least a glimmer of the real emotion behind our relationship with them. Not only does it make the biggest difference in them, it does wonders in your own heart. Let go of the world's cold, hard-hearted ways and show a little emotion. It's worth it.