So the other night I had an edifying conversation with my dear Aunt Cristy. Besides being my aunt she is also my landlord and a close adviser. She rents the whole third floor of her house (which consists of a separate living room, an exercise area, a full bathroom, a guest room, and a bedroom), all to me for a lower than normal price. Call it the family discount. Call it nepotism. Call it what you wish. I adore her for letting me rent part of her home. Even better is the counsel and advice she gives me from time to time.
Of late I've thought upon many subjects, all of which are worthy of my time. Before serving my full-time mission in Brazil I admit taking interest in a couple of young ladies. My mind was firmly set, however, that I would not steady date before returning from a faithfully-served mission to my Lord. So I kept my distance. I developed a couple of friendships and even held onto hope that something might happen when I returned. Then I found myself in the Saratoga Springs young single adult ward. I went to a YSA Conference and the after-dance. I loved it. I walked out of the dance with a phone number. Thus began my experience in the world of post-mission dating.
I've had several interests since that conference (which was back in May), but a couple have always stayed with me.
One I spent a month chasing down and taking out and taking dinner to just because I wanted to and I was found worthy of a week. That week passed by too fast and the steady relationship ended. I spent time regaining my composure and control over my emotions and we had a talk. I was okay with the situation or so I thought. I thought I was over the habit, but every time I drive by the place of her former employ, I feel strange not stopping with a snack, a treat, or a sandwich of some kind. Most days I drive by the road that goes to the home of her family and I still feel drawn to drive that street. She's gone to school out of state so she's no longer here.
It's hard to drive by these locations and not stop to see her anymore. Even harder I think was when we met in Ogden so we could say goodbye. That's not entirely true though. I maintained my stoic composure while we stood embraced and just visited while her ride saw to his necessities. I tried to be strong after she drove away and I went my own direction. Dad offered to drive to my home, but I insisted that I drive. I needed to try my strength I suppose. I wanted to test it, to the very limit. And I wanted to test it of my own free will. I didn't make it far.
I've never actually felt like that often. Nor was I expecting to. We broke up a couple of weeks before she left and I went on vacation for a while, with the hope that being away would break the habits and I could move on smoothly. Oh was I ever wrong. Going my own way I felt a sharp stab in my heart. No pinprick, ache, or smart. A full-on, hard-set open wound. The radio was playing a love song and I couldn't hold back much longer.
"Dad, please change the station," I begged.
"I asked if you wanted me to drive," he replied as he searched for another station. It was already too late. I could feel the tears well up and begin to run down my face. My strength was quickly waning as I faced head-on this storm of the heart. Once Dad found a different station, he tried changing the subject. It took me a few minutes but I finally distracted myself enough to take my mind off her. I found myself excited to see an old friend, whom I had not seen for almost three years. But she was still lingering in the back of my mind, always there.
And through the other young ladies I've felt an attraction to since, she has always remained there. Some days she even comes to the front of my mind. Okay, most days. She and I quickly developed a habit of text messaging early in our friendship and that has not as yet been broken.
The recent storm finds me vacillating from one person to the next. I still have some friendships that I wouldn't mind cultivating more. However, the friendship with her is stronger still. I hope it will be. We kept chatting by text and once in a while I'll call her. I admit missing her, more than I thought I would. I thought I would move on quickly.
Perhaps it really was an open wound. I asked God for and even fasted to be healed. I thought I had been. Perhaps the Master Physician had healed me and I refused to let the sore be so that it could scar over and heal completely. Maybe He placed a band-aid there. I honestly don't think so however. I think He calmed my mind but let my heart remain open to the possibility that the relationship might rekindle.
The storm is in wanting to cultivate several relationships but liking them more than I had ought to. Or maybe that's the temptation. My approach to resolving the issue would suggest this is my perception. I maintain several friendships, but my primary interest is currently out of state studying.
I still find myself wondering some days. The questions come out of the blue, out of nothing. I take that as either inspiration or temptation. If inspiration, I believe it's meant to make me question and reaffirm my desires. If temptation, it is meant to test my strength. The wondering brings on an intense emotional storm and my solution I've shared with a couple of people. One of those was my dear Aunt Cristy. What is my strategy? Drop anchor, pull in my sails, tie-off my life-line, and hang tight. The portion of my cargo or supplies on deck that might be lost will be lost and let go. My anchor will hold my ship tight. The sails will be tightened so as not to be torn to shreds. My life-line will keep me on my ship. Simply I shall ride the storm out and wait for the light to break through the darkness.
The gospel of Jesus Christ anchors me. My goals and desires give place for the wind to blow my life where I want it to go. The Lord himself is my life-line. The storm will pass and the light will come through. My life will once again ride forward and progress. For now I'm holding tight.
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