The only way I know how

When I was in high school, during study hall I would scribble quotes, songs, and Bible verses on sheets of loose leaf, trying to express how I felt at the moment. Those were my prayers. I knew no better way to talk to God in those moments. I wasn’t the type to close my eyes and pray during class, or sneak off to the bathroom to pray out loud. So I scribbled notes to myself.

I wrote on the bottom of all my paper prayers: “It’s the only way I know how.” Sometimes the messy way is the only way I know to pray.

—

I wish we’d always wake up new,
Refreshed and born again with nothing left to lose.
But we dream too much.
Who needs a crutch?
Pull off the bandage,
There’s no wound.

So please just leave,
You don’t mean that much to me.
Give back the ring,
Keep all those summers with your friends
Cause you know you need them.
As for me it’s nothing new just another two years
While I’m here losing sleep. — The Format

—

I was in a relationship for 15 months.

A friend told me once how relationships are like hard drives. When you break up with someone, you still have all these memories of them and knowledge you got from them on some proverbial hard drive.

You have no idea what kind of now useless knowledge I have about UFOs, marijuana, Tom Petty, hard drives (oh, how appropriate), music recording programs, species of trees, and, of course, painting.

I think what’s hardest of all, though, is not this hard drive thing. Let’s look at the positives of that: I’m more knowledgeable than I was 15 months ago.

No, what’s hardest is missing the people. His family, his friends.

I don’t know what normal protocol is for these things, but I Facebook messaged his aunts and sisters, to thank them for letting me into their homes and lives. And I know this break up is nothing like a divorce, but gosh it kind of feels like it.

I grew to love these people, and now I can’t have anything to do with them. I mean, I hope we’ll stay Facebook friends. But I’m also Facebook friends with people I’ve literally never talked to.

And his friends. I think most of them will want to keep talking to me. For a while. But even these things fade out. We no longer have a reason to see each other. I’m not going to be invited to parties anymore. I was the girlfriend, now I’m not.

—

So begins a new series — an accidental one. I theorized once that it takes half the length of a relationship to get over someone. So this will be a seven-month series of my recovering. (Ha, let’s hope it doesn’t last that long.)

These blogs are meant to be pity-parties. I will, however, keep posting as I learn to recover from this breakup.  Right now my heart hurts so badly. This is the first time I was honestly in love with a man. Of course it hurts.

 

So. More from me later.

 

Lauren Deidra

—

Also, thank you to my friends — Rachel, Molly, Elizabeth, Isaac, Abby, Allison, Katie, Renee, and Matt — who have shown me so much love in the past 24 hours. Thanks to Mom and Sam for the same, and for those Facebook acquaintances of mine who’ve promised prayer. And to my two favorite professors who’ve acted as fill-in parents for me.

I know I am deeply loved and cared for. I am a lucky girl.

November 11, 2011

Posted in Nonfiction.