People like Stephen's brother Jon and I are such conundrums. We're unpredictable and inconsistent. I make my excuses, but what are Jon's? And what's the real reason behind it all? Why do we like to throw people into confusion and sometimes say hurtful things on purpose? What are we trying to hide?

The bottom line is we're both driven by our emotions. We do what feels good to us at that particular moment. I know this is my own Achilles' heel and perhaps the most difficult one to extricate.

I should leave well enough alone, but what Jon said to his mom hurts my feelings. She means perfectly well, and if Jon would just explain himself, he wouldn't have to get all spiny with her and hurt her. Their relationship must be a very difficult one.

Margie is so much like me. She feels things very deeply and shares them very seldom. It seems to me at times to be no way to live...And yet I keep doing it.

I had a dream this morning that is making this particularly poignant, I think. In my dream, I was friends with Lucy and Susan from the Chronicles of Narnia, and we were in a large building. There was a villain on the loose and a superhero doing battle with him. Half the girls who were there were in love with the superhero, including Lucy and an extra sister my subconscious threw in, Amanda. Susan caught his attention (can you tell I just watched "Dawn Treader"?) and all the girls were heartbroken, including me. I was trying to stuff all my feelings down but they kept escaping at times and I'd have to leave the room. Susan finally asked me what was wrong when we were alone together, and all I could do was place a hand on her shoulder and tell her, in tears, "You're so beautiful, and so lucky." When she asked me, aghast, if I had been in love with him, I was forced to reflect upon myself and found that no, my heartbrokenness had nothing to do with him--but her. It was as if it were a replay of me at Elizabeth's wedding, a heartbroken bridesmaid, not because I was in love with her husband, but because Elizabeth had found her man and I felt that I would never find mine, and it hurt to the deepest core of my being.

And I never told her until she, Ryan, me, Stephen, and Jimmy and his wife met up for pizza over Christmas break. I didn't meant to spill it. But we got to talking about our spouses and weddings and such, and it just spilled right out of my mouth: Laughing at the memory my own blindness, I said, "I was so depressed at Liz's wedding, 'cause I thought I would never get married. And then I met Stephen that very same summer." That was how Liz found out I was terribly depressed at her wedding...Ugh. Some friend I am, eh? As soon as the words were out of my mouth I felt terrible for letting her know something like that 3-1/2 years later in such a way. I couldn't look at her in the face when I said it; I knew on it would be written surprise, disbelief and some hurt that I'd never told her. But how could I? On the happiest day of her life! I kept my mouth shut for her like I'd kept my mouth shut for her many, many times before.

No one said a word or even laughed after my story. I thought it would at least be funny--surely all of us can relate to feeling such a way at some point! But I wonder if perhaps they saw Liz's face, since I didn't, and didn't say anything. I don't know. I'll never know, I guess.

See, these are the types of things that bother me for years and years and years. They get under my skin as I try to excuse them, brush them off, forget them, tell myself it's fine, I'm overreacting. Just so I don't have to face an awkward conversation and humiliate myself. And at this point in my life, I've had to stuff soooooo many things in such a way that to bring them all to the surface at once with any one friend would tear me apart. Not to mention make for a 3-day-long conversation. I don't know anybody who can spare 72 hours of their time to help an overly-emotional girl take all of her skeletons out of the closet and bury them. I don't know anybody who can spare 5 hours of their time for such a task. They either have jobs or babies or spouses of their own to worry about. Who has time and energy for friends? The ones who make extra effort to spend valuable time with girl friends astound me. What dedication; what love; what exhausting energy. I could never be strong enough to do that.

Stephen is my closest thing to a confidante, and even he has to work 10 hours a day, 4 days a week. You can't really plan these things around a schedule.

Anyway...Wow, what a lot of emotional rambling this entry has been. That dream really hit close to home. :(

Lift my burdens, O Lord.

-Stephanie

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