Sunday, April 18, 2010

"What's she got that I don't have? What's she got that I don't have?"

"O LORD, I call to you; come quickly to me. Hear my voice when I call to you." Pslam 141: 1

First of all, let me just say that being the second option in life REALLY ROCKS. Not. Honestly, I've been number my whole life. In every relationship I've ever been in I've been number two. And countless times I've gotten into relationships with people where I swear I won't be. I swear they love me enough that I won't be their second option. I swear they're attentive enough to my feelings that they won't view me as their back up plan. And I get proven wrong every time. Clearly I should not be getting my hopes up about friendships in general, but I am an eternally optimistic person and I can not help the way that I view life. In my eyes, the cup will always be half full. There's no getting around it. Hence, I'm sure I will be let down in some way, everyday for the rest of my life. It what it is.

What is it about me that screams "second option!"? I have a theory, and it might be far fetched, but here it is. Maybe I am people's second option because everyone else (and their mother) has a significant other of some sort to worry about and I don't. I have shut myself off from the romantic side of life when ALL of my friends have not, so maybe I seriously am their second option because they put their boy toy/girl toy (as a matter of speaking) ahead of me on their list of priorities. If this is the case, it has been happening my entire life and I should not be surprised. But it still stings just as much the 500th time as it did the first time. I never become immune to emotional pain. Why can't I just move forward with life? Why can't I build walls around my heart? WHY CAN'T I GUARD MY HEART? I am incapable. I am a doormat to humanity and I am a doormat to the people I care about and I have a sick feeling that it will always be this way. Isn't that just fabulous?

For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. 1 John 3: 20b.

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