Count it All Joy.... Count it All Joy...

I've been avoiding writing this. I've been manning up since things have become what they are..

It feels like we've broken up. I follow you on Facebook, eagerly awaiting the arrival of each new status. I smile at some, sigh deeply at others. I want to comment on each, I want to tell you my thoughts, but I feel like they're not welcome anymore. I look at each new picture you post of yourself and long to tell you how beautiful you are. I want you to know how attractive I find you. But I feel as though you're no longer mine to share that with anymore. I know it's not true. The reason I don't share more of these thoughts is because it will only increase this familiar longing that you are already plagued with.

I want to talk to you, I want to text you all day. I want to be next to you to listen to you and hug you on the bad days just as I want to be next to you to laugh with you and hold your hand on the good days. But I can't. I can't even talk to you. I know if we start talking, the knowledge of our future will quickly have me climbing over this wall we've put up out of obedience. We'll be right back where we were before I felt the tug to do what we've now done and put each other aside for the time being.

I have the strength to do this so long as I can avoid you. It's when I talk to you or read your posts that are in any way connected or relevant to me that I falter. The deep, sad sigh that erupts from my heart causes me to shudder. The sudden swell of my own emotions surprises me yet I'm not taken off guard at all because I know they're there. I keep them buried as much as I can, but they glint and glimmer under their paper thin curtain at the smallest signs of life and light from beyond their cover. They betray betray me while they betray themselves as they awake from their slight slumber.

I can't talk to you. I need to avoid you. I already can't avoid you completely. It's already hard enough. But I couldn't have it any easier because I can't stand to see any less of you. It's a torturous in-between and it weighs on me considerably every time these feelings are aroused. These are my honest, human thoughts. These are things from my lowly perspective.


However, His thoughts are higher than mine and His ways are not my own.

No part of me wants to conclude this on a hopeful note. I want, for once, to be completely miserable, without a hint of bright optimism to taint my dreary canvas.

But we are under His watchful eye. His plans are to prosper us, not to harm us. He desires to bless those who love Him and are quick to obey Him. There is hope while there is a promise, and there shall be a promise until death do us part.