Who?

The guy that broke my heart got married on Saturday.

I thought I’d be slightly more than devastated.

But proving His majesty and ability to create a happy ending even for the broken, God has allowed me to feel…

Freedom.

For the first time in months years, I feel completely free from all of those ties. I feel as if I could fly, do backflips down the street and let loose on a crazy Pentecostal hallelujah dance.

He moved on with life. I actually felt a smidgen glad for them and that they’re happy together at present (even though he’s gotten far less attractive and well, she always was and they’ll probably get divorced because he’s selfish and doesn’t love Jesus). I realize how much better off I am now. Even though there are still hurts and regrets, those aren’t as specific to him anymore. It reflects upon where I was emotionally and how much hurt had built hurt over the years.

I’m moving on too.

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Dancing Alone.

So. Bianca asked. Most people didn’t ask, just said that they’d pray. But she did, and I feel like she asked because she wanted to know how to pray most effectively. Not only that, she wants to grieve with me as I grieve. I’ve honestly never really had many people who considered me that important.

It’s an extremely personal matter, and I don’t feel comfortable putting many details on here because of how personal it is, how much I’m grieving, and also because it doesn’t include only me. I don’t want to hurt the people who are killing me. I don’t want to trivialize what I’m going through by putting it into mere words.

It was a romance. A romance that hadn’t really happened yet, but that I’d had a very small taste of, and something I believe that God was working out to give to me in the future. I believed and I labored in prayer over this like nothing I’ve ever prayed for. I put my soul into this. I was willing to hang on and believe for as long as it took.

And I just found out last night that it will never be mine. I didn’t even know that he was dating her. I feel so foolish. Completely duped.

It’s one of those situations where you can’t even think beyond, “What the hell?”

Because it is hell. What I’m going through right now is the most torment I have ever experienced in my life.

And now I know why tragedy inspires most writers. All I want to do now is write out everything I feel even though it doesn’t make sense. I think I could write forever out of the pain.

I loved him more than I have ever loved anyone in my life. He was the first person I loved, and he taught me that I could actually love someone and that I wasn’t too broken to feel like this. But he doesn’t care, and he’s killing me. He broke my heart and then sent it back.

I don’t want to write forever out of the pain.

I don’t want to grieve this. I spent a very, very, very long time believing for this and I am so not okay with giving more tears and more space in my life to pain. I’ve lived a life of pain and heartache and abandonment and hurt and rejection and I don’t want it anymore.

I’m constantly nauseous. I haven’t slept. I’ve never cried that hard in my life. Of course, finding out on Facebook that the most noncommittal man in the world got down on one knee for someone else didn’t help. He gave her a ring and asked her to spend the rest of her life with him. They’ll recite vows and kiss and she’ll bear his children.

Not me.

It’s a stark reality and I have to accept it and get used to it. I feel like I can’t function. I can’t breathe right. I can’t think straight. I just can’t do anything right now. I want to stop and sit and take comfort in familiar things.

Yet somehow, in all of this, God has been here. He knew that it would happen. I would never, ever, ever have believed for something so strongly had I not believed that it was His plan and His voice and His hand involved in every single aspect of it. I believed for the hugest miracle ever. Now I realize that I didn’t hear His voice at all, and I’m terrified of the implications of that.

But He picked an unlikely source to use to speak to me since I apparently have no idea what He sounds like personally.

David Crowder Band recently released a new CD called Church Music. Ironic title considering that it’s basically techno praise and swine flu will have to manifest in actual flying pigs before we’d ever play any of those songs at my church. Yet it’s basically the best CD I’ve ever heard, and definitely the best thing I’ve heard from DC*B. I got hooked with the album A Collision and was sorely disappointed in Remedy because it was really tame and “normal” compared to A Collision. But Church Music is just on a whole other level of weird. By weird, I mean awesome.

There’s a song called Church Music – Dance (!) and you can listen to it by going here and scrolling to number 13. It has a funky beat and really does make you want to dance. But the most important part of the lyrics are:

Dance if you’re wounded
Dance if you’re torn in two
Dance broken open
Dance with nothing to lose

Perfectly free
Dance if you want to be

It’s SO amazing that God knew that I would go through this and exactly when. The CD has been out for a little while but I just got it and listened to it this morning. It is the only thing that really got me through today without being catatonic on the floor.

You know how yesterday I said that I’ve given up on being happy? The song doesn’t ask me to be happy. It just tells me to do exactly what you don’t want to do when you’re wounded and broken open – dance. Just enter into mindless movements of celebration, even if you’re like me and have no coordination whatsoever.

I’m broken. I’m wounded. I’m not sure if I can live through this. But I can be free from the grief and heartache and all I have to do is live. I don’t have to figure it out. The situation tells me that I’m worthless and will always be a reject and that my hardest efforts will grant me nothing. But God says that I’m perfect in His eyes and that His Son made me perfectly free. To be wounded and dance, and it’s beautiful to Him.

(You know, all of that sounded great, but I’m still terrified and in more pain than I can imagine. It’s 2:41 AM and I can’t sleep and my stomach is completely empty but I feel like I’m going to hurl. And I keep watching the sneak peak video of Glee where Mr. Schu raps Bust a Move. I have serious problems.)

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Done.

You know how there is that one thing in your life that you are terrified will happen, and you try not to think about it too much lest it actually happen because you thought about it and revealed that it was your biggest fear? You beg God not to let it happen, to protect you from this, but it just looms there sometimes to jump out at you? You live in fear that it will happen.

Well, it happened.

I’ve spent so much of my life trying to be happy. I have had so many people tell me that I should be happy, that people would like me better if I acted happier, even if I just faked it. I’ve been prayed over, preached to, and had nearly every Christian tactic employed on my behalf so that I’ll be happy. I have completely ignored other areas of my life because I exhausted myself trying to be happy.

Yeah, well, that’s over. You know what? If you want smiles and cheer, go to Lakewood Church. A lot of people rag on this place because they think that it’s just motivational speaking, but I completely believe that the leaders of this church have a huge place in the kingdom of God, if nothing else than just to keep people like me from cutting our wrists while we read Lamentations and Ecclesiastes. Anyway, I am SO DONE trying to fight to be happy. I’m going to get on with my life and if happiness decides to find me eventually, so be it. If not, at least I haven’t wasted my life trying to chase it.

I don’t feel like happiness is even possible for a very, very long time now. I don’t even care. I’m actually kind of relieved. I don’t even know what happiness is or looks like and it’s nice to have a break from the whole ordeal, really.

It’s also nice to have a break from that looming fear. I’m not sure if I can make it through what happened, because my heart is so totally destroyed right now that I don’t even want to live. But at least rather than living in conjecture, I am living in the reality of what happened and even though it feels so much worse than I had anticipated, at least I have the relief of knowing that the initial discovery portion is over.

I also have the relief from believing for anything. Seriously, I’m done. I’ve never been this low in life and I’ve never had so little going for me. But you know what? It doesn’t even matter. In an ecclesiastical fashion, I’m so totally done with desire. This thing that I was believing for was the only thing keeping me motivated to do better and be better and accomplish anything in life. And now that my sole motivation is gone, I’m kind of relieved. There’s nothing stopping me from being average or below average anymore, and I just don’t care. I have no pride left.

My story ends here. I have no idea when it will pick up again. I feel like a writer who gets completely tangled up in the plot of her work-in-progress and just tosses the whole thing to the side because it sucks and she can’t figure anything out. I’m putting it into the bottom drawer, underneath the extra sheets, and I want it to get really brittle and stale.

Stupid story. Stupid life. Stupid Kayla.

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