I had an interesting conversation with a friend yesterday. As see you see from the post about two weeks ago, I saw my ex A LOT that day. And until yesterday, I hadn’t seen him at all. It was going on about two weeks without seeing him and theoretically I was doing really well. I had prayed a lot that God could take that off my mind and that I would be able to do other things and think about other things without him controlling and consuming my every thought. I had even gotten to the point on Sunday where I was sitting in church listening to the sermon, and suddenly thought “You know? Everything is going to be alright.” It was a great feeling and one that I haven’t really experienced often.
So anyway, yesterday I saw him again, for the first time in almost two weeks. I didn’t realize it at first when I walked right in front of him and then he followed behind me for almost 40 feet or so, as we were both on our way to classes in a similar direction. When I looked up and saw that it was him, the shakes set in. My heart started pounding, my hands were sweaty, the whole deal. It was pretty unbearable. Even when I finally got to class a few minutes later and sat down and got all settled, I was shaking so badly that I could barely even hold my pen. It’s quite possibly one of the worst feelings. It’s just an uncontrollable physiological response that I have that I can’t seem to shake (pun intended). After class (which is when I usually do see him, if at all) I ran into a really good friend of mine and we started talking outside the building of where my next class was. I told her all about how I had seen him, about an hour before, and how I couldn’t stop shaking. I wasn’t mad. I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t upset. Maybe there was still a tinge of heartbreak, but even that feeling is waning. Then guess what happens. In the middle of our conversation, he walked by again. And I started shaking and losing it all over again.
I revealed how I’ve been starting to lose faith in prayer since this has started happening. I told her all about how I pray for strength, guidance, courage, and righteousness every day. And as often as I pray, I try to live those things out. It’s almost like I’m two completely different people. After not seeing him for almost two weeks, I felt confident in myself (and my ability to move on) and really truly felt like everything was going to be okay. Then, he walks by me for a split second and I fall apart and lose it and feel like I’m back down to square one. (Don’t worry, I didn’t let him know I was falling apart on the inside. I maintained my composure and acted as if everything was just great and that I’m very happy without him – which I am. I didn’t let him see me all shaky and jittery).
Well, she said something that caught me off guard that I hadn’t really thought about and it’s been weighing on my mind. I asked her why she thinks that God would continually place my ex in my life, whether it be just by walking by for a few minutes every day, when He sees how well I do when I don’t see him at all. She said that maybe by praying for strength, that’s exactly how God is teaching me to be strong. Sure, it would be a lot easier for me to move on and be happy if I never ever had to see him (like over the summer). But eventually to really be strong, I have to be able to see him and maintain my sense of self. By God providing a way for my ex to see me and for me to see him, it’s like He’s testing my strength…which I obviously am not a huge fan of. I joked and said that maybe I should quit praying for strength, and just ask to be weak instead, then maybe God wouldn’t keep him around me anymore. Wishful thinking? haha.
So i guess maybe that’s what it’s all about. God teaching me, yet another, lesson. I hope that through all of this I’ll get stronger (for real) and that some day I’ll be able to look back on all of this nonsense and realize how much time I wasted even thinking about him. But to tell the truth, the thoughts are becoming less frequent, the hypothetical conversations are being stopped in their tracks, and wishful thinking of my past is starting to wane. It really just takes time, which is what everyone has been telling me this whole time anyways.
I read a note on one of the legal assistant’s desk yesterday that read “Forgiving is letting go of the hope of a better past”. The past happened and it’s gone. There is no hope of making it better than it is. There were good times, there were bad times. But in the end, it’s the past and it’s over and eventually I’ve got to start looking to the future, and to more bright and beautiful things ahead. I forgive him. I forgive her. And slowly, I’m forgiving myself.