Okay, so here we go.
Smart idea number one:
Stay the heck away from you.
*sigh*
I am as much a mess as you are, and that is really, really hard for me to admit. I don’t know how long I will look with nostalgic wistfulness at the huge pit and wonder if it will actually, really, actually, actually kill me. I will be indecisive for some time, I think, and I have no control over my instincts. I do have control over my actions and my words, but it is hard enough to keep my thoughts pure on my own. Put temptation in front of me in the form of an attractive man that I’m genuinely interested in and I’ve got too much going on to be able to keep my composure. I would be impulsive and seek your company to validate, but that will just bring you down, too.
No. Absolutely not. Napalm sucks, and diabolical serpents are worse. In the interest of my personal purity and yours, I can’t afford to have any contact with you right now. That totally, totally bites, but I see the wisdom in it.
Smart idea number two:
Stay the heck away from anyone who rouses the same instinct.
When I realize what powerful forces of darkness I am dealing with (a.k.a. the urge to give into reckless abandon and completely disregard my chastity) it becomes clear to me that my body is the single most powerful tool I have against evil. That, in my opinion, is why we are so tempted to alter it. Drug it, and we lose control. Defile it, and we lose control. Over-medicate it, and we lose control. Abuse it, and we lose control. The list goes on.
On the other hand, embrace sorrow, loneliness, and humility and we have not lost control, rather we begin to let God take over and trust that He will make us strong enough to endure the Refiner’s Fire. There is balance in the universe, so as a form of insurance, I tell myself that if I give enough good to the everyone that means something to me, then I can trust that it will come back to me somehow. If I love deeply enough, often enough, and with enough sincerity, I can have faith that I will be the recipient of the love I so badly yearn for.
If it requires me to be desperate and despondent for a time, then I guess that’s the way it works. I will not let anything take over my body. Satan doesn’t have a body, and so he seeks to dominate ours. I must remember who I am and face the billowing storm of life with a clear mind before I do anything to alter my greatest weapon against the adversary. After all, I am my Father’s daughter, so there is enough spiritually genetic strength in me to be victorious if I stick with Him.
Smart idea number three:
Use a personal insecurity to my advantage: it has been a really long time since I even held hands with a man, and while it doesn’t take a whole lot of skill to do that, it takes some know-how to do the rest.
With almost a year of celibacy under my belt, I get to fight fire with fire, and rationalize that I would be pretty crappy at whatever I wanted to do anyway, since it’s been so long. The last person I kissed was my husband while we were married, and that was in October.
I will use the fear that I would be a disappointment to keep me distant from trouble. The idea has kept me out of trouble already, as I’ve had a few invites from gentlemen since the spring. Still getting used to the idea that I am attractive. It’s weird and I don’t know how to handle it.
Smart idea number four:
Hang out with you on one condition: that you are in a position to take me to the temple.
This is the only way I see anything good coming out of actually being around you. I would love, love, love to spend time with you as a friend, but I just find you too stinkin’ awesome and I am not sure I can shut off my switch. In other words, its either romance or nothing, and if it’s romance, well then, it had better be able to go somewhere or I might as well spray myself with some napalm where I stand.
Please, understand something here, Gabriel — I am setting a boundary for myself, not asking you to do anything. I told you before I don’t believe in forcing anything on anyone, so don’t get the idea that I am implying that I want you to propose to me, to plunge yourself headfirst into a religion that you’re not sure about, or to do anything else that might come to mind as you read this. No, this is just something I know to be sure for me and my family.
I can’t afford to mess around, like I told you that day we talked under the shade of a tree we found on our walk, so why open a door I’m just going to have to close later? I wish I could do the platonic thing, but as it happens, I’m just not built that way. Guess I should be grateful, as Father has a plan for everyone, and trust that He’s wired me this way for a reason.
*sigh* Thank you, Father, I trust again in Your divine vision.
Smart idea number five:
Gestalt therapy.
You ever hear of it? Sit an empty chair next to you and talk to the person as though the were there. So, while I can’t hang out with you except under circumstances that will plausibly never occur, I will make you my imaginary friend so I don’t have to miss you so much. You get to ride shotgun all the time (except for when a real person has to ride in the car) and I get to share all of my adventures with you.
I don’t’ have to travel alone anymore to Duchesne just to stick flyers in a real estate sign, and I get to tell you about how much I love the landscape as I make the trip back. I can tell you about the time I won the presidential award two years in a row for track and field in Berlin’s JFK school, about how I made it on the nightly news for breaking the record for the running long jump when I was eight, about how I won the gold for floor in gymnastics only because I accidentally stuck extra back flips in my routine (a fortunate effect of stage fright, I guess), and ask you if you get any weird feelings every time I go hiking in the mountains. Don’t want to stumble over any dead bodies.
I don’t expect you’ll talk much, except to agree with me when I need validation, call me beautiful when I’m having a bad hair day, admire my insight and intelligence when I’m feeling dense, and remind me why I mustn’t figure out a way to get your phone number. In other words, I will keep you in my memory and savor the company until I am strong enough to walk alone.
Okay I guess that’s it. I can’t decide if I should actually give you this letter or not. Something tells me that I should wait until I don’t work for DI anymore, so at least I don’t have to worry about seeing you (or wanting to see you) when I pick up my check. Dunno. Still thinking about it.
I mean, it could be that none of this makes any sense to you and I sound completely out of my gourd. Or you could be laughing at me, ready to manipulate at every conversation, studying me and waiting for a chance to use me for your own selfish agenda. And, well, this letter is my coping mechanism after all, so perhaps it is mean to be kept private. If that is the case, then objective of successfully working my way through an emotional situation has been achieved.
On the other hand, what if my musings strike a chord? Should I risk sounding like a lunatic or letting myself be mightily taken advantage of on the off-chance that you may benefit from all this in some way? As my intentions are pure, it seems worth it.
In closing, there is one memory I will especially cherish, and that’s listening to Clair de Lune in the car.
I found the story behind its composition yesterday. Turns out, Debussy was inspired by a poem with the same title and so he put it to music. In don’t think that it’s a coincidence that when I described what I heard in the music as who we are on the inside (glorious, breathtaking, amazingly beautiful, strong, graceful and full of boundless, boundless love), the actual poem was the author’s take on the human soul.
When you hear it next, if you do, and if that memory meant something to you — if there is always a place for me, as you said on the phone that day I gave you a bit of history — erase me and fill that space with something else… something better.
In other words, Gabriel, don’t remember me…
…remember you.
See you on the other side, Sparky.
Violet
© 2010
