Two Long Years

My friend Sarah says that it takes at least half the time you were with someone to get over them.

So based on those calculations it should take me, oh, two and a half years to get over Michael. Scratch that, two years, five months, and one week.

But I doubt it will take that long. I mean really, I think God has been preparing my heart for the split for a while now. I mean I didn't even cry when I ended it this time. And it's been almost a month and I have yet to speak to him or tell him that I miss him and want to get back together.

Yes there are still moments when I want to. Just tonight my heart started to ache when I came across a picture of him.

But my heart doesn't ache for him exactly. It aches for the things that he did for me and to me. He was the band aid that covered the hole left by the men in my life. He was the one that I could call at three in the morning if I had a bad dream or if I was scared.

He also treated me like crap which is what I wanted.

See I've figured out why I held on to him for so long despite the fact that for three years he treated me like a disposable dish cloth.

I've had no shining example of what a good, healthy relationship looks like. I love my parents to death but they failed miserably in that area. When my parents were together they acted more like two people who were just stuck with each other than two married people in love. I can't remember them ever kissing, or being affectionate, or anything. He was either in his room or in the studio most of the time and she was working three jobs. They were never together. And then the screaming started. Every night they would yell at each other and my sister and I would pretend not to notice. And then they split.

So when I started to notice boys, and when they started to notice me, I had no idea how to handle the situation. I had no idea what a healthy relationship was. All I knew was what my sunday school teachers had told me. That I was not to have sex and that any boy who asked for sex was bad. And that I should only date christians.

And so with my insecurities and warped idea of a good relationship was in hand I entered into what I like to call the dating years.

It all started out with a boy named David. Good looking chap and even better friend, I fell for him hard and quickly. Eventually I told him that I liked him and one fateful winter retreat he decided that he wanted to kiss me. So we kissed. One month later, we kissed again. Three months later, we kissed again. This time with tounge. It ended after that, the friendship and everything. Of course I was upset and so I lashed out. I allowed anger to take control and I became bitter. After all, that's what I thought girls did when heart broken. That's what TV had taught me. So I acted like jerk and remained bitter for a few years.

Meanwhile, not too long after David came Michael.

He was sweet in the beginning, the perfect gentleman. He showered me with compliments, gave me money to buy cheap little rings from the machines which I still have, drove me around town, took me to the airport to watch planes land and talk. It was just lovely in the beginning. But of course all good things must come to an end. He started to put pressure on me concerning the physical part of our relationship. Of course I eventually gave in. I didn't want to lose him. I cared about him too much and besides, he was the only boy to every really say that he liked me and not take it back a bit later. I didn't want to lose him like my mom lost my dad. So I put up with it, I gave him what he wanted in exchange for a relationship.

But of course things started to change. We talked less, went out less, and eventually stopped taking me out in public. He'd only come around to my house when he was horny and needed to be offed.

And I was more than willing to oblige. After all he said that he loved me, what more could a girl want? For all I knew that was all there was to a relationship. It was way too much to ask for a friendship as well. All that mattered was that he made me happy, somewhat, and I continued to turn him on.

I knew it wasn't a good relationship. I knew that what we were doing was wrong. I knew and yet I did nothing. Not even when my friendships were on the line, which I have to say was a pretty awful move on their part. What ever happened to being there through thick and thin? Anyway, I digress.

I knew that everything about me and him was wrong and yet I continued to stay. Why? Not because of the way he made me feel, not because I "loved" him, but because with him it was easy.

Yes I was often miserable but I knew how to handle this type of relationship. I knew how it worked. He got what he wanted, I got him, and I was only miserable part of the time. I knew what to expect with him. Like I said, it was easy.

But thankfully last year at summer camp God did a work in my heart. Slowly my feelings towards the relationship started to change. I started to care about him less and less untill I realized that I didn't have any romantic feelings towards him at all. And yet still I stayed latched onto him. But yet again God interviened and slowly began to chip away at the bond I felt with Michael until I finally got to the point where I was able to let go.

Yeah it still hurts a bit when I see a picture of him. And I think of him every time I see an episode of cops or jackass but that's what happens when you become intimate with someone. Souls are tied together and it takes a long time for them to be seperated.

So maybe it will take the full two and a half years to get over him completely, who knows? And who cares really? God works everything in His own time just like he uses everything for good.

Now I'm at a place where, while my heart longs for the attachment that a boyfriend brings, I have no desire to be with anyone. I don't want to date. I don't want to have a crush. I don't want to even think about getting married. I don't even want to persue a relationship with God so that I can be ready for my future husband. He has been taken out of the picture for present.

My priorities are different now. I'm not longer worried about preparing myself for my future husband because while I hope he's out there, he might not be. Now my main focus is to run as hard and as fast as I can towards God so that he can use me in this world. I want Him to guide me through every breath I take. I want to go deeper with Him than I ever thought possible. And maybe in a few years I'll look around and see whose running beside me. Maybe then I'll start thinking about marriage. But for now I feel a pull into the mission field and as we all know, women who go into the mission field either dating or married don't end up well.

It's going to be a long, hard road of healing before I get to the place I want to be spirtually. God still has a lot of work to do with me, some serious habitual sins that I can't fix on my own. But I know I'll be ok. Finally there is a light at the end of the road and though I fear the unknown life which God will help me through, I will no longer hide from it. As long as I have God guiding my way, there is nothing I need to fear.