Orange Colored Sky
One of my favorite blogs to read is The Drafts Folder. The Draft Queen writes about the adventures in the Draft House and at her place of business. My favorite blog posts are the ones about The Draft Queen and The Knight, because they give me hope for the future. I can also hope to maybe learn from some of their mistakes.
Once upon a time, she said this:
“I screwed up. I put words in his mouth that never crossed his mind. I created an issue out of virtually nothing and I ran with it because I’ve made it something of a habit to walk away before being the one who gets left behind.”
And I realized…. HOLY MOSES! I DO THIS!!!!
It’s crazy how the things that people have gone through days, weeks, months, sometimes years before us related so very closely to what we’re going through in our own lives at this very moment. I screwed up. I assumed that WK was thinking and feeling things that he wasn’t necessarily thinking and feeling. I created an issue, because I was scared and assumed there must be one, things just couldn’t be going that well. “I’ve made it something of a habit to walk away before being the one who gets left behind.”
I grew up thinking that if I just did everything right, I would finally be good enough. If I could just be perfect, someone would love me. Then I fell in love with this Jesus guy and learned that I can never be perfect. And as much as I know the incredible love that my savior has for me, my brain twisted it. My thinking process goes a little something like this: If I can’t be perfect, then I’ll never be good enough and no one will love me.
How do little girls come to think things like these, you might ask? Well… that’s a story for a different time, a different blog.
The point is, I still struggle with letting someone close to me, because I assume that they can’t possibly love me. I’m still scared. I have a tendency to assume there is a problem and get upset about it. Many of you know that once I’m upset, it doesn’t really matter if I’m wrong. there will be no convincing me. I’m pretty sure that my ancestors bred the worst kind of stubbornness into their children and grandchildren.
Something that could have attributed to this severe lack of intelligence on my part is that even more than my need to be verbally encouraged, I need to be held. There are these things called love languages and mine happens to be touch. I need people to hug me, hold my hand, pat me on the back. If we’re not making physical contact with each other, my brain assumes there is something wrong with our relationship.
Guess how often WK and I got to hold hands? Not a heck of a lot, because we’re both busy people that live in separate towns. This isn’t something that can be helped. Maybe I can learn to do without hand holding and hugs. Maybe. Maybe “us” will have to wait until we’re in a time and place in our lives that we can be together in a face-to-face manner. Maybe The WhiteKnight won’t wait that long. I can’t say I blame him.
I understand that I’m not the only one that gets to decide these things. If we’re going to have a relationship again, even in our relationship now as friends, we’re going to have to learn to work together. I’m going to have to learn to trust a little, maybe a lot, more.