I have this ridiculous obsession with two deadly desires of the heart: being intelligent and being liked. What’s maybe worse is that both require a response from others that I have less control over than I’d like to admit. Okay, so maybe that’s my third deadly desire: having control. These insatiable hopes and fears manifest at the worst times of my life. For instance, during finals week.
Here I am, screwing up myself wishing I were as smart, cool, funny, pretty, wise, calm, effective, loved, mature, and liked as X, Y, Z, A, B and C. I’m in trouble, I do fear. I wonder when distractions will run from this burned out, exhausted, lonely chica. Am i really alone out there? I feel like some people are just going to tell me, “trust in God alone.”
Shut up, please. Is God here in my face, in this booth, holding my hand literally right now. Is he looking me in the eyes saying, I love you. Sorry, but not in the way that you’re claiming – not what I really want or need. I don’t want to hear your trite answers. It does not make me feel better. Actually, it makes me feel worse. A lot worse.