I ache because of dreams un-realized. Obstacles un-surmounted. Changes un-imaginable.

I shake because I am weak. Always learning and always scared. Scared that I should be amazing. But I’m not.

Average. Ordinary. Resigned to life instead of living.

I want to scream but I stay silent. Want to yell, but appear calm.

My insides are churning, shaking, yearning for something more.

Instead I sleep.

Alone with my thoughts. Alone in my bed.

Un-recognized. Un-satisfied.

Looking to the future that is always my past.

Yes, I know. Nobody likes to be lied to. So they say. But I think some people do. Would prefer the comfort rather than dealing with reality. And while I love my fantasies, I can’t stand lies in a relationship. I’ve dealt with them my entire life from people who are supposedly my nearest and dearest.

Now, I find that I can barely discern between liars and truthtellers. And since it angers me so much, I want to completely disassociate myself from anyone who proves themselves less than honest.

I’m not talking about the little lies we tell to make ourselves feel better, or the big ones that we later apologize for. I’m talking about the ones that intentionally hurt others, and are never owned up to. It’s always someone elses fault or responsibility.

It pisses me off. So much so that I can’t even write coherently.

Of course.

Getting in touch with my masculine side.

Felt alone, even though I was surrounded by hundreds of people. The pastor was great. Dynamic. Went through the loop of overcoming challenges: trust God, let go, listen, have faith, victory. Had the crowd of worshipers in a “praise God” frenzy. A lot of amen’s and hallelujah’s.

I just sat there. Looking around. Heard a women cry-moaning “Oh God, oh God, oh God” over and over again, and all I could think about was sex. That’s how removed I was.

And then they started singing “I love you Lord/We exalt thee.” A song I’ve loved since childhood. Gave me a warm fuzzy feeling and I started singing too. 3 seconds later I was angry. Wanted to chuck my Bible down the aisle and walk out. Imagined worshipers whispering, and muttering “that girl needs prayer, don’t let the Devil take control,” and the pastor saying “pray church pray.”

I controlled my impulse. Sat silently until the service was over. This was smart since I came with someone else who was enjoying it. Couldn’t really walk home.

Afterward, I cried. There is no panacea for life. All I can control is my perspective.

And that’s just depressing as hell. Especially when you have no hope of going to heaven.