As evidenced by my lack of consistency in blogging I am not the best at keeping up on things in the writing department. My journal is pretty much non-existent, and I almost never write letters to the friends and family who are on missions. I LOVED getting letters on the mission and it seemed like it was forever between them sometimes.
Time moves differently in different places. Einstein said time was relative, and besides his theory of relativity, dealing with time based on speeds and whatnot, I think that time moves differently based on experiences you are living through at the moment. In my life now I wake up and do a few things, go to work, go home, play games or read a book or hang out with friends and the days slip by like a Lamborghini on the Autobahn. On the mission every day was planned out, and while the elements of each day were pretty much the same it was always a bit different. Every hour of every day was planned out and I was able to be more aware of time passing as each planned event had it's season and moved into the past in a tangible way.
It's been over six months. I've written 0 letters over that time. Correction, I've written at least one, started a couple, and written dozens in the recesses of my mind. Something is disconnected between my mind and my hand. I don't know how to start in this particular case, not that I'm all that terrific at writing letters anyway. I have wanted to say so many things but none of those thoughts have ever coalesced into tangible words and phrases, not to mention my memories of this friend of mine are very bitter-sweet. I have thoughts and/or memories cross my mind every day, which only makes it harder to pick up a pen and spill the contents of my current life to someone, who, in a past realm, played a primary role in it.
I try to distract myself from this past, my past. I don't often feel much when the thoughts dance in my mind, and if I do it's usually a nice feeling with just a little bit of a crumpled edge, like that book you love that you got mad at because one of your favorite characters did something stupid and you threw the book and then remorsefully picked it back up and kept reading. The book is never quite the same, oh the story is, and your favorite parts are all still there, but there's that constant reminder of that time you lost your cool and hurt your friend. I find it hard to stay distracted when one of the biggest reminders is one of my favorite things: Sunsets, and those don't happen EVERY DAY! The sky in general is a big one too. It is also hard that I still have suppressed feelings for her, and that I haven't had anything close to a real relationship since the crap hit the fan last year. I guess I'm a bit leery of that kind of thing and I'm still stuck on her as well.
I really ought to send her something. I don't want her thinking that she is an awful person or something, distracting her from her performance as a missionary. I don't know what will happen when I start writing, I don't want it to become a can of worms.
Blah
Oh, and all the above doesn't really help with my life right now. There's this amazing girl (smart, fun, pretty, spiritual, talented) and she likes me, which is great, I'm just having trouble (been having the same trouble for ...well a year actually) liking her back the same way. I want to, but I don't know how to let myself. I have been trying to figure that out, and this last week I have been thinking especially hard on this subject, when I received a letter from afore mentioned missionary friend this week as well. It happens to be exactly one year ago this week that all the back and forth stuff took place with her and shoved me into my protective shell. Now I'm dealing with a fresh re-acquaintance with my emotions while trying to be fair to someone else. Why was that letter sent and then received at the most inopportune time?
