Life.

I’m stuck.

That’s the only way to describe how I’m feeling.

I look across the table at my brother who has come to sit with me, knowing I don’t want to talk, but I don’t want to be alone either. I realize that even though he sometimes annoys me like crazy, he will always be there for me. For a moment I feel guilty about being angry with him earlier in the week.

I stare blankly at my homework in front of me, unable to focus on any of it. I push it away from me, disgusted with it, and myself.

“Maybe I should just give up.” The thought is every present in my mind, though I refuse to actually give in to it. I would hurt to many people. The last thing I want to do is hurt people like they’ve been hurting me. I think of Kerstin who has been a constant encouragement to me in the past twenty four hours, sending me texts that make me feel loved, when I wonder who in the world really loves me. I think of Max, who is probably sitting at home, reading his book for school, and I remember how blessed I am to have such an amazing kid in my life. I think of little Millie May who has been ever present in my mind for the past week and I think about how what I do affects her, even when she is thousands of miles away. I think about my dear Kieffer who is going through so much but still makes time to talk to me about me. I think of my parents who welcomed me home last night when I called bawling and saying I needed to get away. 

My thoughts are interrupted by a familiar face and I put on a huge smile as a friend walks towards our table. I ask how she is, she asks how I am. I reply “Im good.“ But she doesn’t realize that on the inside I’m really breaking into little pieces. I so want to ask for a hug, but don’t because I’m shaking, a sure sign that something is wrong with me. I have to be strong, I can’t let her know I’m hurting. If there’s anything I’ve learned in the past 24 hours it’s that  sometimes it’s better to keep emotions to yourself. Because then the only person that can hurt you, is you.

It’s a stupid philosophy. Shut everyone out so no one can hurt you. I’m disgusted that I even had the thought. Living a life that way would mean living a lonely life. And the one thing I don’t want to be right now is alone. I need to surround myself with people. I know that if I’m around people I’ll be fine. I’ve gotten so good at being open about how I feel lately, why am I all of a sudden terrified that talking about my feelings will end up causing me a heartbreak?

I start writing a poem. I seem to always be able to get my emotions out in poetry. By the time I’m done I have a poem that is over two pages long. It is full of the emotion that I think I feel, but can’t seem to bring to the surface. I glance at myself in the mirror, searching my eyes for some sort of indication that I’m still in there, even though my mind is blank. I wonder how I can write what I feel with complete accuracy, but when I go to talk about it outloud fear seems to overcome me and I remain quiet, blank and emotionless. 

I open my backpack and pull out the teal cardboard box that holds my Bible. It hasn’t left my side all day, though I haven’t actually opened it. I flip open the beautifully lined pages and pull out a list of verses a friend sent me two years ago. The verses I still to this day go back and reread whenever I have a bad day. As I pour over the verses I start to feel better. My cold hands return to their normal temperature. My heartbeat slows down. I’m comforted by what I read. My God is powerful. My God is awesome. My God loves me. My God rejoices over me with singing. My God will never give me more then I can bear. My God has a plan for me. My God heals me. My God will never let me go. I can’t get enough of what I’m reading so I just pour over the verses over and over and over again. When I finish reading for the first time all day I can tell I’m happy.

The color has returned to my pale face. This time when I look in the mirror I see a broken girl, healed by an incredible, powerful, almighty God. So I get up and eat something for the first time all day. A friend walks by and asks me how I am. This time I look at her and give her a huge smile and say, “I’m good.” But this time, I truly mean it.