9:29pm
I feel unsettled. Restless. Inquieto. Frustrated. Like I can’t get comfortable, and that even sleep sounds like a pitiful response to my heart tonight.
It occurred to me that this stagnant feeling wasn’t actually a part of my days until last Thursday. That’s when I started to feel numb, which eventually led me to feel a bit jumbled up. Now here I am, wading in this seemingly endless cesspool of thoughts and unprocessed ideas as I attempt to lay my head down to sleep. It’s exhausting and not at all how I’d like to spend my nights.
Most people would stare up at the ceiling until their eyes got heavy, or look at the stars out the window to perhaps catch a glimpse of one traipsing across the sky, or count sheep until the thousandth one made its way home. Or even stay up late into the night, eyes weary but heart alive, talking to someone that prefers them over sleep, too.
Not me. No sheep will do, and the ceiling is much too inhuman to spend my time stealing long, uninterrupted gazes.
The others won’t work, either; the stars and thoughts of sweet conversation do nothing but remind me of him. Which is precisely why they won’t work–they leave me remembering, or adding more to my “To Process” inbox at the forefront of my mind. I gotta let go. I gotta stop, drop, and keep on rolling along.
But something insightful occurred to me in the midst of this pondering. Wednesday was the last day I talked to him. This feeling didn’t come out of nowhere–it’s a product of his absence. He was always there to talk at night before bed, or even midday. He wanted to hear about my day, and what went through my mind. He wanted to ask questions about my life and was happy to let me make the same long-winded and personal inquiries. We would talk for hours about life and its problems which just caused both of us rest in each other’s presence. It created connections. It freed both of us. But now…now that’s gone. Cause he’s no longer around.
I get that this is necessary. I don’t question the distance or death of the relationship. And ideally, You would become and always would be that person that I could just unpack with. But I’m not sure if I’m there yet. I see how his and I’s emotional dependence could eventually suck the other dry. (Well, kinda…maybe eventually? But yeah.) I still cannot convince myself to let You take his place, or to give You the throne in my heart that I’ve let him sit on.
I don’t feel like You could be there for me like he was. Or like she was. She and I literally would talk all day long. For weeks and months on end.
In both of these situations, there was something beautiful, though. There was this freedom in my life like never before. I was truly alive. But was it all just temporary? Cheap versions of Your ideal care and consideration? ‘Cause part of me is craving that kind of conversation right now.
There is just something about being heard. About having someone stop in their day and seek you out. About being someone’s priority. About being understood. About having the physical touch of a human being to remind you that you’re only human, and that things will eventually be okay.
So, God, before I go making stupid decisions, would You hold me tight? Would You show me what it means to be loved by You? Teach me to see you as my confidant. My best friend. The one who deals with the burdens and yoke on my shoulders.
‘Cause You say that’s what You are.
But God what about tonight? I need You to be those tonight.
If you aren’t those things for me, I might never fall asleep. Or worse– I just might drown in this sea of thoughts. 
MyExposedHeart 