Anonymous asked: You should write more stuff. You're writing's really good. Romanticism is great. What do you major in?
well thank you kind stranger! and my major is Biological Science; haha not very related to writing at all.
Strangers. There are strangers everywhere and all around. I met a few today, and now we are no longer strangers. Unoriginally, yet in accordance with my outright claim that I am a romantic, I believe there is something about strangers that is undeniably romantic. Where nothing but what is seen is known, there is an entire world of experiences, opinions, thoughts, joys, and hurts that I yet know nothing about. So how do I begin to know? I start with a simple question, Hi, how are you doing today. He responds, Well, thank you. Nothing much else transpires, but there has been the undeniable acknowledgment of each other’s existence and there is a brief connection on the level of human beings. Even if nothing occurs after that and we never see each other again, the slight connection as humans, as God’s creation (whether or not this identity is realized by both people), is a beautiful thing. It is in his beauty that there is a connection and those two people can go on to talk, whether it be about something meaningful and deep, or simply about the weather. Today, it was something meaningful, and with two other strangers the four of us engaged in topics about God, marriage, Christianity, our lives, and our interests. At the end, he invited me to coffee next week, got my number, and gave me a hug as he left. There was no romantic interest, at least I didn’t perceive any, but the appreciation of each other and our deeply differing opinions was enough that he wanted to get to know me better and invited me back. It is these kinds of moments that I find my energy and satisfaction in the human race even in its fallen state. It reminds me that, though distorted, the image of God is still imprinted in every person. I love it. God’s fingerprint is most apparent in the study of us humans. It’s the basics of humanology that reveal God’s image.
He is no longer mine. Yet last night I was with him. Not in body or even in words, but our souls seemed to be connected once again. I don’t know whether there is any significance to my dreaming, but I cannot deny the residual effect of his presence. When I am wrenched back into reality by morning’s unyielding hand, the folly of my imagination is revealed. I cannot help but remember how I let him go because he never gave me the things that I liked him for. The person I allowed myself to fall in love with was never real; he was a hope that haunted my dreams and obscured my reality. I never actually had him, but its strange how I find myself longing for him; as if my memory has taken all my memories and desires of the past and made them into the idealistic life that I imagined for myself. Therefore, by something as fleeting as a dream I am bulled over and off of the known path. The thicket of emotions has me crawling just to make it through, covering my eyes to avoid the thorns, and completely disoriented. I can’t remember why I said no; why I let go. I want. I desire. I lust. I remember. I cry. I stop. I wait. Remembering and waiting.
It’s fleeting. But these are the years I’m living in. I’ve begun them and there is no pause until they’re over. It’s a kind of fast and furious that leaves its imprints on your life like a noncompetitive inhibitor on an enzyme; your purpose and direction are completely changed. Last night was a night that I may not remember in even a year, but it was perfect. With way too many people in two small cars, our adventures were characterized by the awkward closeness of our bodies and the risks we took. I love the thrill of laying in the middle of the road, finding ways to climb on building roofs, and accepting a challenge that no one expects you to take. Its doesn’t matter if you’re good at it, its just that you’re young and willing and enjoy spontaneity. It’s the kind of work hard play hard ethic your grandparents lecture you about. These are the years I’ll remember forever as a completely separate from the rest of my life. There are so many things I have to look forward to, but right now, I’m young, single, and reckless.
The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (via isology)
I don’t know what I used to believe, but I think I have it somewhat figured out now. Everyone wants to be pursued. Relationships, at least the special ones between girls and boys, don’t work if only one is doing the pursuing. I think that’s what my problem is. I love being pursued, there is nothing like it. It makes me feel powerful and wanted and loved. I feel in control and I hold all the cards. I don’t have to risk anything and I can show compassion. But those aren’t real relationships. There isn’t a real trust because I don’t risk anything. Plus, I end up settling for someone just because they came to me. There are a thousand examples of love in fiction, film, and fantasy;, but just not enough in real life. Our views are distorted and greatly have greatly skewed from the truth. I think, for me, it’s because I’m afraid. The fear of rejection paralyzes me until he takes the first step. Once that step has been taken I am fearless to do whatever he does, go wherever he goes; but until then, I am a fox hiding from the shot of a hunter. I am timid, shy, and afraid to show off my beautiful red coat that God gave me. People always say that the people who judge you don’t deserve your love, but what if I want to give them my love. And I want his love. What if I can’t resist the attraction, but am too afraid to say anything? I don’t know how to go about grabbing attention and pursuing. Both people in the relationship need to be pursuing each other. The constant striving to love the other person greater than they love you makes the relationship exciting and worth it. There is no sense of power that weighs on the shoulders of one, wanting to wield it and tempted to use it against the other. There is a taste of humility, servant hood, devotion, and loyalty that are mixed up and inseparable from true pursuit. Now, it would be easy to say that that is what every girl wants. It would be easy to let myself be pursued, and I can’t entrust myself to just anyone that fancies me. I can’t let myself let him pursue me when I know I can’t give the same. So I refuse to bare my soul until I find someone who chases me as passionately as I chase them.
In science, they teach me about waves and particles. Nowadays, they believe that everything has both particle and wave qualities. I can see it. Loneliness is like a wave. Its crests are huge and its troughs are as deep as an ocean trench. It’s hard to tell whether you feel it most in the crests or troughs. My favorite part is where one wavelength ends at the zero point and the new one begins; at that time I even feel normal. I know it’s a wave for several reasons. 1. It comes and goes with a consistency that I can’t see the end of. 2. Certain other waves of events in my life can constructively interfere with it and it becomes bigger than I can handle. Loneliness is like a particle too. When I’m around other people, it can collide with them and in its rebound toward me, make itself even clearer. It can get pushed around and always seems to bounce around in the space adjacent to me. It is matter in that it is not created or destroyed, but somehow always there. But if loneliness is a wave, then relationships are a wave that interferes perfectly with loneliness to deconstruct it. Relationships are the particles that bind perfectly to loneliness to create an entirely different molecule of community, love, and fellowship. It’s not always a perfect reaction and there is often extra of the reactants that are left over and show up when you least want them. But the reaction has already been completed, and with even only a couple moles of the products it is enough to satisfy the goal of the experiment. Thus, you have formulated some of the necessary and inescapable ingredients of life.