This weekend has been really hard. I haven’t had one like that in a long time… years… and I am not happy that this is back. I feel vulnerable which is not good for an interview I will have for an eventual job with a psychologist… and I feel extremely negative about myself.

Anyways… with the last rejection I just went through, it feels like something broke inside of me. Not just my heart… no. It killed something. That part of me that could still hope no matter what. I cannot even stand people’s encouragements. People’s good wishes for me. People’s belief that I would find love finally. I don’t want to hear it. I cannot hear it. It is not my desire anymore. It’s weird… I’ve never felt this way before even when things went bad.

But it’s as if my dream was finally killed. The only bad part is that it leaves me bitter and angry. With a feeling of it all being unfair. Upset with God because I asked Him to protect me from that… I insisted. And it didn’t happen. I tried to walk with Him during the time the feelings were blooming… I made mistakes yes… but I still tried. So hard. And it makes it all even worse. When you think you’ve finally made huge progresses toward what is right, and in the end you crash… it destroys a lot of things.

Over the weekend I also realized I was looking for male attention too much. Trying to feel valuable to men… But it was not good because I put a friend in a situation where his girlfriend was wondering what was going on. And I felt ashamed. It’s not what I want. Like the fact that I got this tiny little part of me still hoping that it would not work out between the man and his new girlfriend. What good does it make for me to hold on to that? To wish ill things to him… I don’t want him to be disappointed and hurt. And she’s probably the one… Usually men find a woman after they’ve met me. I cannot hold on to a hope that is ridiculous. It’s wrong.

So in the end… I feel like a part of me has to die. To stop living. The part that is this little girl, dreaming of finding her husband. Of having a couple children. That part of me, present since I was a child… it has to die. And with it all desires to attract men, to be noticed and appreciated. The desire of intimacy, affection, tenderness, companionship and a powerful covenant that would fight together against the hardships of life.

It will just be me. And I want that to be enough. It has to be. I have to become numb. Until that part of me becomes like a finger that has not received any blood in a while. It falls off, dead.

Yup it was one hell of a weekend.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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