The other day someone asked about my blog, and when I went
to send them a link, I noticed I hadn’t posted anything in a year. “Could it really
have been a whole year” I thought? The stress and heartbreak of my job ending
last year, combined with a new job where I was traveling constantly, I never
seemed to find the time to write another post.
Most of my blog posts are (what I hope have been) funny,
crazy and true tales of my bizarre life in the dating world. But true life
isn’t always funny, even my life. So I decided I would write a post about a
different side of my dating life. The part where my heart broke, and I found
myself crying my eyes out in an airport bathroom stall.
In the last year I had only gone on a handful of dates. I was
completely burned out on dating and just wanted to breathe for a while, figure
some things out, not try so hard to find love.
I have always loved to work, and having a new job that I could pour myself
into was exactly what I needed.
Then a few months ago, someone came back into my life from
several years ago. The attraction was still there and it got serious fast.
Despite the red flags, we both fell in love, and I don’t regret that.
One of the hardest things about being single in the church,
especially a mid single, is that you can go a very long time between real
connections with someone else. The loneliness can become a constant companion,
even when you are surrounded with wonderful things in your life. I’ve found you
either acknowledge the loneliness frequently, or you become sort of numb to it
all. I found myself in the latter.
When he came back into my life, I was shocked at how numb I had
been. It had been so long since I had been with someone I felt a true
connection with, laughed with, genuinely wanted to spend more time with, and
the fact that he felt the same was a feeling I had completely forgotten.
I knew about the issues from the start. I decided to push those to the side and jump
in with both feet. But you can only ignore the problems for so long. They creep
back in, slowly at first, then with more aggression. Too many nights spent in
tears, begging to make everything ok. Too many beautiful words spoken, but no
changes made. Too many times trying to figure out why it couldn’t just be as
simple as “I love you and that’s all that matters”.
I wanted to believe it.
I wanted to believe that Love Is All You Need. I tried. So very, very hard. I tried rationalizing, discarding things that
in my soul I knew I needed, but knew he couldn’t offer. He would never be able
to offer them. Why couldn’t love be enough? He was a good, sweet man, why
couldn’t this work?
It became overwhelming.
I sought advice everywhere I could get it, hoping to get a new answer.
But it was always the same, you know what you need to do. I went to my most trusted advisor, desperate
to try and find a way to make it work, but the answer was the same.
I asked a dear friend for a blessing, and it was one of the
single most spiritual moments in my life. As I sat with his hands on my head
and let the tears flow, I heard the most beautiful words that spoke directly to
my soul. But the answer was still the same.
I tried to end it, but I wasn’t strong enough. My heart
could only try to shift to friendship or risk a complete breakdown I didn’t
know I would be able to recover from.
I kept pleading with myself and Heavenly Father to make it
work. I even resorted to trying one of
the Zoltar fortune teller machines. His answer of “You already know the answer
to the question you seek” was not what I wanted to hear.
It was while waiting for a flight, I knew I had to end
it. I was shaking, I had forgotten how literal
it felt when your heart breaks. So I sat in an airport terminal, as far from
people as I could get, and made the phone call that I had dreaded more than
anything in this world. I had to put my
full trust in Heavenly Father and follow what I knew to be right.
After I hung up, I prayed to make it into the bathroom
before I started sobbing. I felt like my
throat was on fire from holding in that much pain. As soon as I locked the
bathroom stall door, I let it out. Trying to keep what little composure I had
left, I tried to keep it as quiet as possible, timing any sobs with the noise
of the sink turning on or a toilet flushing. It was not my finest hour.
I also prayed harder than I ever have. Prayed for him.
Prayed for me. Prayed more and more for him. Prayed that I was doing the right
thing and that I hadn’t just walked away from my only chance at love.
I emerged 20 minutes later, red faced and puffy, to board my
flight. I’m sure that everyone was hoping I wouldn’t choose the seat next to
them.
So here I go, walking into an unknown. Putting my faith in
Him and his plan for me. Closing my eyes and taking that first step, even
though I can’t see the road before me.
Wish me luck.
