.I knew going into this reveal that I was setting myself up to be disappointed. Like I said on Saturday, I know Tez well enough to know that he would have no problem asking if he felt like it. But it doesn’t make it any easier to hear it for sure though does it? The coffin and the nail… hideous.

I really don’t have a whole lot to say (since when???). I guess now comes the process of not allowing my heart to get hard and that nasty period when I have to get over the awkwardness that will colour our pizza nights until we get used to the new glasnost.

I’m over it though (not over him… I’m not superwoman) … but I’m fed up. This is the 2nd time I have had to go through this in the last 8 years and I am really cheesed at God that I am still here looking down the barrel of all those hideous thoughts that you torture yourself with. Spending too much emotional energy imagining why the object of your affection doesn’t look at you with the same eyes.

Last time I went through this all I had to do to get past it was to get on a plane. The temptation to do the same now is strong. Would that it were a little closer to April 2nd.

But, you do what you have to right?

Pick yourself up
Smile again … once an hour, so you don’t forget how
Carry on.

It only takes a second for things to change

Well, after that little outburst, and possibly as a result of the 2 glasses of wine and one Heineken, I have taken the bull by the horns and done something that has the potential to generate more change than the circumstances outlined in yesterday’s post…

I sent Tez the post … which while it is not a link to this site, could be considered keys to the Singular Scene kingdom if he were so untrustworthy as to try a few google searches out…

Anyway, once he has read my email at work on Monday he will be in full possession of the facts concerning the squishy feelings. (Actually not the full facts… more like a passing reference to them.)

There… the brave part.

The circumstances surrounding actually filling him in are the increasing depth of our conversation over the last months and the rampant honesty that pervades it; something I see or experience so rarely that it is rather precious.

I decided that life is too short to continue with the BS.

Risky? Sure… I have palpitations.

Now, you have to understand I sent the email with no expectations – and I made that clear in the sending. I know Tez well enough to understand that if he were interested he would have had no scruples about asking. So I didn’t tell him because I expect flowers on Valentines day and a date for the prom. (Or a pash on the doorstep next time he arrives (which is what Surf’s advice to me has been consistently over the last year.))

I guess if he is bravely and sneakily reading this blog he will come across the fact that the “scarcely acknowledged” portion of the squishy reference is seriously underexaggerated. And you know what? I don’t mind… I’m unashamed of how I’ve felt on and off for 5 years. I’m big enough and fabulous enough not to be crushed by the fact that he doesn’t reciprocate and I am thrilled for him to know that someone as fabulous as me thinks he is the same.

Oh boy… are you sure you want to read this? It’s all a bit depressed if you ask me…

I have spent the evening with Bliss, Tez and Surf, drinking beer and eating pizza. It was quite the reunion, just like old times. But, it was all a bit too much after my rather fragile day. (see post below).

I love these guys, and having Bliss around has been a balm to my frazzled nerves. It makes it harder to see her head back off to Brisbane. Tonight felt like the first sort of normal I have been near since she left, in spite of the fact we touched on some fairly heavy disucssion material. I still get blown away by how much I miss her.

The other killer for me is that while Bliss has moved interstate, Tez is moving interchurch.

It leaves me wondering, when the tectonic plates of my interpersonal relationships have moved so much in the last 8 months, why I am still where I am?

The answer is no less confused than the question.

I am in a church that is flawed, like any other, where people hurt and are hurt, where leaders lead and still fall, where sometimes, there isn’t someone to help you up when you graze your knee, or get hit by the plank on someone’s shoulder that smacked you in the head as they turned around.

I am sure it isn’t actually any different in other churches, there aren’t perfect churches out there are there? “… no perfect churches, only the perfect church for you” ????(It’s a quote… if you haven’t heard it before.. ignore it…)

Hmmm

So, why don’t I follow my friends who are moving on? Why don’t I just up stakes and go home, which, right now, feels like the only place left that has some kind of normal attached to it?

That’s the killer, the “why not leave too?”

I could trot out the trite answer that goes something like “I believe God has called me here” and you know, it feels true to use that reply. But it is such a subjective one. It isn’t balanced, rational or easily justifiable or quantifiable.

Nope not even close to quantifiable. And because it isn’t quantifiable for me, I find it hard to understand when others find it easy (or even possible) to leave.

I tried to articulate to Tez today why it is that I hadn’t responded to his announcement to me during the week that he was leaving. When I read the brief mention of his plans I had no words, no understanding and only tears.

Why tears?

I had to ask myself the same question… and dig deep, deeper than I am usually prepared to go, to find some approximation of the answer.

Could it be my intermittent and scarcely acknowledged [squishy] feelings for him? That this is some kind of curtains on them? Scans internal processors… Nope… No tears there…

Is it my concern that he hadn’t dealt well with the hideous (to me) events of ’04 and the fallout thereof? … Nope, still none.

Am I all shook up because I believe he is chucking away his destiny because he is distancing himself from this particular community of worship? … Hah..no… not even that, though at least that would make some kind of “Christian” sense, given the community we belong to.

Actually, the bottom line is none of those things. In truth, I will probably see him as much as ever before becuase we never seemed to be at the same services on Sunday thus rarely saw each other in church. We still live just down the road, and there still is rugby on the tv now and again so, we may watch the odd Sth Africa v NZ or Aus game together (but not the NZ v Aus ones… too stressful) and as we still have email he will continue to be the first person I send stupid and funny emails to!!

The thing that has me uneven is that the change of church means we have one less commonality which will make ours another relationship that will change, as have so many of my relationships since April of last year.

I am unsettled because everything around me is subject to change. Nothing is constant, no one is constant and it is this which is the the appeal of home. My family is one thing that IS some sort of constant in my world.

God of course should be my constant, so that the waves of all this change have little or no effect on me.

Bah Humbug… I’m just not that spiritual.

And I’ve had too much to drink tonight.