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Name: Annie
Birthday: 4/20/1987
Gender: Female
Interests: Reading, writing, speaking, spiking, strumming, sleeping, eating, hiking, camping, learning, playing, acting, debating, discussing, translating, traveling, collecting, driving, and men...ha.
Expertise: Existing.
Message: message me
AIM:  originality050
Member Since:
2/24/2005
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| It's 3:30, and all the world is asleep. I can hear my dog snoring at the foot of my bed. Even the rebellious teens from the house on the corner have put away their firecrackers and their loud arguments and gone to bed themselves. I think that I am the only one awake right now, and that's okay with me.
This house is so still during the night. I'm left here in the silence with only my thoughts to keep me company. There are so many of them, and yet somehow I feel like I have nothing to type here.
I'm in awe at the many ways there are to cause pain to another person. And as soon as I assume its all over and that I have nowhere to go but up, he finds yet another way to hurt me, to make me doubt myself even more than I did yesterday. Why? Seriously, it is beyond me as to why a person would want to cause any other individual this much pain, regardless of their history with that person. I don't understand the coldness...I've never felt it before. And every time I find out about something else he's done or something else he's said, it's like I've had the wind knocked out of me, and I still didn't see it coming. But I should expect it by now, shouldn't I? How did we get here?
Just leave me alone! I want to scream. I did something big today and told him that no, I did not want to get coffee with him. He asked if I was terminating our friendship and if I could "handle" a friendship with him, which I did not even validate with a response. Seriously, where does he get off? Leave me alone.
Because alone I'm doing well. I'm finding peace with the Lord and slowly but surely repairing my relationship with Him. I'm planning and dreaming of doing good things with my life, and I'm coming to understand myself, as I am, all alone...Anne Elisabeth Lowrie and no one else. I'm deepening relationships with the friends that are true and giving up "friendships" with those who aren't. I'm ridding my life of the bad and holding on so desperately to the good. Just let me grow in peace.
I watched a beautiful film tonight. "Bella," it was called. Have you seen it, cyberspace? No? Well, I definitely recommend it...primarily, because I've never seen a more beautiful man than the one who plays the main character, but secondly (and, perhaps, more importantly) because it presents a realistic view of life in all of its ugliness. I don't want a chick flick or a sitcom in which everything turns out perfectly for the protagonist and conflicts somehow figure themselves out. I want realism, because I know that's what I'll face after the credits are finished rolling.
The beautiful thing about "Bella" (ironic statement for the linguist) is that the movie also brings life's redeeming factors to life. It is not always sunshine and puppy love, but there are parts of it that are absolutely beautiful and worth the pain that it took to get us to the point in which we could experience them. These are the things that give me hope and encourage me to imagine my life a year down the road or five years, ten. Time heals all wounds, they say, and I'm ready to test their theory.
The dog's stopped snoring, making room for my own snores to pierce this silence. Goodnight, Xenia.
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| It's about to rain here. I don't know about where you are, but I wonder if it's going to rain there too. I wonder that and I remember watching it rain with you, and I wonder if you remember that too. I don't want to watch the rain alone tonight. I don't want to do anything alone, and yet more and more of my twenty-four hours/day are spent all by myself. I don't think I could ever get used to that like he could.
I don't know why I torture myself the way I do by seeing him. It's this damned flicker of hope that no one can seem to stamp out, no matter how hard they try. It just keeps burning, weakly, weaker then ever before, but it burns all the same. Maybe...someday...things can be right again. Maybe someday I will have reached my pain and punishment quota and will be loved again the way I was.
"You have no motivation, Annie," is what he told me today. I stuttered and tried to come up with a response, but I couldn't. "You're not the Annie I knew." I know! I wanted to yell, but I just sat there and thought about the accusation. I used to consider myself a driven person, but lately I have come to a brick wall. I have no direction, so I have nowhere to push myself and strain toward. This whole not-having-a-job thing is driving. me. insane. I shouldn't be going on this trip. I should be working, making money, anything. But I promised her I would, and I'm going to, and it will (hopefully) be the experience of a lifetime. And maybe, maybe when I come back, this will all be better, in one way or another.
Despite sounding cliche, I finally come to the point where I find the silver lining of this overhanging cloud. I have found God, again. I have reached such a point of brokenness that I have cried out to Him...finally. And He has been faithful and has listened to me and spoken to me with words of His own, if ever so faintly. I plead to Him for forgiveness, for grace and direction, for a sense of peace. I begged Him for direction in His word...I don't even know where to start. But something told me Ephesians. That could be because I'll be in Ephesus in a few short weeks, but I found what my heart longed for in that book. And I can't read it aloud without weeping, but perhaps I can type it without tears.
3:16-19 "I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge- that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."
I can't read it without tearing up, because this what I want so desperately...to feel full. To feel loved. And He was reaching out to me all along, but I had hardened my heart to the point that I couldn't see it. I am so tired of focusing on myself, and I will die of exhaustion if I don't focus on His promises instead.
And I'll find motivation again.
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| I cried, too. You could hear it in my voice. I know you could.
It's been a hell of a week. And finally, I'm alone to process all of these thoughts. Perhaps this was a bad idea, coming out here with him. No, I know it was a bad idea, and yet I did it anyway. When did I become that person? My mother chewed me out yesterday, calling me selfish and irresponsible, referencing all of my bad decisions. But she wasn't speaking in the past tense - "Annie, you and I know you make bad decisions." When did that happen? "No, mom, I made bad decisions. Not anymore."
She didn't believe me. I don't blame her. I didn't believe myself. Mes fautes...they've been such a topic of conversation lately. I feel like I've been stripped naked and strapped to an operating table. All of my friends, family, and peers have been handed scalpels, tweezers, microscopes, and have been given free reign to pick me apart, cutting into me, grabbing whatever they wish to inspect further and then comment on it. Everything: my habits, my personality, my faults, my strengths, my fears, my past, my decisions, my secrets, my future...all of it.
We got a drink last night, down at the hotel bar. This place is deserted, like something out of The Shining, and we were left alone on those bar stools, nursing a couple of beers. He turned to me and apologized, apologized for picking me apart. I was taken back, because an apology out of his mouth is a rare and precious occurance.
"Uh....I didn't hear you. What did you say?" "I said I'm sorry for picking you apart lately. You're right; it's not fair to you."
I had broken down the night before next to him, started crying, told him I was so sorry about what had happened. He was angry at me, and he had a right to be less trusting of me, but I was so tired of him bringing every flaw of mine to light. Granted, every human being has faults, and mine may be greater and deeper than those of others, but at some point...he would have to accept the fact that I was human...just like him. He had reminded me, cold and bitterly, that I was selfish, self-centered, naive, horrible with money, out of shape, had no direction, had no drive...all of it. And these are all true things.
But it felt good to get an apology. I think I even teared up into my glass as we sat there. He's the only one, the only one to apologize for treating me like a specimen pumped full of formaldehyde. "You're not perfect, Annie, but it's not fair to constantly remind you of that. I'm not perfect either. I want a reason to remain angry at you and keep myself free of you and a love that has hurt me. But I can't do it like this. I'm really sorry."
"Thank you," I whispered. And it felt good.
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| I'm going to turn off my heart. Just shut it down. I'm tired of it. I'm so tired of these peaks and valleys...this is not what love was intended to be.
I cannot, for the life of me, understand how one could be ready to commit their whole life to another at one point and then turn around and wish not to be with that person at all? I have given five years of my life...far too much of myself, to just be pushed aside like this...all over again. When did I become so...forgettable? It's like I'm back in high school; have I made no progress whatsoever? My confidence has been shattered and I am left broken and trembling...trying to remember what it is that I believed made me worthy of love in the first place.
And the most pathetic part...is that I find my mind drifting to thoughts of someone who genuinely cared about me, who, I think, genuinely wanted to be around me, enjoyed my company, thought I was worthy of his time. And ironically, he is unreachable as well. I feel so incredibly helpless, knowing that nothing I do is going to somehow "fix" this situation. I cannot force someone to love me, and I cannot force myself not to love someone else. It's this hellish cycle in which I find myself awake and full of hope, only to then be faced with the sad reality that I have no one.
And that's all I want, really. One person to call "mine." Just one. I would freely give of myself to know that at the end of the day I would have a heart that was my own. Someday, perhaps.
And I miss you.
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