Crying in the Bathroom Stall

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.