June 21, 2011

  • Dealing With Being Taken

    Last night, I went to sleep around 10:30 PM because I was, literally, falling asleep in my chair. Before I went to sleep, I was excited about going to bed because my sleep schedule has been consistently bad to the point that I've been losing about 1-2 hours of sleep a day. Because I mostly work during the afternoons, I don't have many incentives to wake up at 10 or 11 AM; the only incentive I have is to jump on Facebook to see if my girlfriend is online. She usually isn't online when I get on, but I sit on Facebook with the anticipation that she will get on before I go to work. Since my girlfriend has been in Brazil, one of the greatest sights is seeing her name pop up on the Facebook chat or the green circle next to her name in our previous conversation box. To me, the feeling is almost like finding a water source in the desert after walking for several days without water; it's the only closest thing to true happiness until you're saved. Ever since my girlfriend's been gone, I've felt like I've been lost in a desert; I'm walking, but I don't know where I'm going. Salvation could be near, but I can't see anything for miles. I hear a voice inside my head that reassures me that I'm walking with a purpose, and it keeps me walking. The days and nights seem long. The sun beating down on my body is the cause of my physical suffering, but it also gives me strength and energy. The sun is the love that my girlfriend has given me that gives me strength and suffering at the same time. Fredrick Nietzsche once said "to live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in its suffering," and I have survived because my girlfriend gave me more meaning in my suffering. What I am experiencing is a necessary suffering because I have learned to appreciate every moment that I'm with her. I appreciated a great deal, but I would always go back to my regular life feeling like I haven't done all that I could with her. When she comes back, things will definitely be changed; I will no longer be doing things with the fear of losing her. Instead, I will do things to enjoy every moment that I'm with her. She will be changed, and so will I. Slowly, I'm working my way towards optimism.

    It's no easy task, but what I went through a couple days ago really exposed my irrationality. To make a long story short, I invaded my girlfriend's privacy by accessing her e-mail and I found, what seemed to be, an e-mail from a dating service asking to be verified. I was under the impression that she just signed up for it, and I couldn't help but call her about it when I found that she was listed as single. It was, by far, a very difficult conversation for me because I had to make a decision whether I should completely trust my girlfriend or not. I eventually decided that I should trust her, completely. But I believe we're back to normal.

    My girlfriend is also going through tough times because of family drama. She cares a lot about most of her family, and she found out that there was a huge fight and some people got sent to the hospital while some are in psychological pain. She's got a lot on her plate, and it honestly hurts me even more knowing that she continues to go through tough times. But I believe that the pain and suffering we are going through will really intensify my experience seeing her again. I've got about 39 days left, which is a long time, but June will eventually be over. I feel that when July comes around, things will get better because we'll be halfway through. I will also probably be able to talk to my girlfriend more often on the phone, and the topic of conversation will probably be our excitement towards being back to the way things were before. Just thinking about how much excitement and sadness we'll have when she gets back brings excitement and sadness to me already. It's going to be one powerful day; I know it.

    I pray for it to come every night.