I find myself here every night before bed. Sitting in front of a screen with a “New Post” box lighting up the room. Most nights I don’t post what it is I wanted to say. I have a whole lot of drafts. When I do post its often pointless mumbo jumbo, things no one would understand or care about- at least I wouldn’t if I read them, or sometimes I post things someone smarter than myself wrote.
Today I started this post with the title “I have nothing to say.” But I changed it, because the truth is, I always have something to say. It is rare that you will catch me with out a word ready to speak. Give me a pen, give me a keyboard, give me a open ear and you will get something out of me. Thats just, kind of a big part of who I am. A part I have grown to resent.
Today I was asked why I don’t text very often. I went into a long story of bad experiences texting, why I don’t have a smart phone, why my phone is often dead or lost, and why it is that I think texting is a bad idea for me in this stage of life. 5 minutes. I realize a simple answer of “I just don’t like texting” would have done the trick. People would nod their heads and say “Ok.” Life would move on. So why is it that I keep talking? I think its because I just want people to know. I don’t want to hide inside myself. I want people to understand who I am. I want people to be ok with why I do what I do. Maybe I want everyone to understand I mean no harm. I talk about the past when it comes up because I want people to know where I have been. Where I have come from. I want to be known. I don’t want to be a mystery. I can say truthfully that I have no secrets of my own. None.
I want to share and I want people to share with me. Its a lot to ask. And its a lot to risk. Will you still like me once you know all about who I am? Will you ever know who I am if I hide here behind this wall of openness? Is it alright to be unknown? Is it alright to be a mystery. Maybe I am more of a mystery than I think I am. Than anyone thinks I am. Maybe I need to stop blogging at 12:05 am.
Waiting for the (human) person you don’t need to share who you are with because, they just, know. But they want to hear if you want to tell and they want to tell because you want to hear. Unrealistic? Most likely. I doubt there is anyone on this planet like that. Maybe I am getting ahead of myself. I am only 19. I am young. On the launching board of life.
Could someone please just tell me what to do with myself?
“Yes Grace, rest in Christ, know that he loves you, go to bed.”