Sometimes I struggle to exist in a world that doesn't understand sadness without reason. It demands truths and explanations that I can't give for my rending sorrow and feeling of displacement. It requires me to get over it and be happy, somehow; to smile and not bother others with my thoughts that something's not quite right and something is missing.
To say that I am missing God would invite strange looks and well-meaning advice that condemns more than it lifts up. Advice that demarcates where I have gone wrong in my life, where I have not done enough, where I am clearly insufficient.
And I suppose I bring it upon myself too with my need to be significant. But I am uncomfortable in the spotlight anyway, so it feels like there is no place for me to be and be happy.
:: And that's all she wrote 8:44 PM [+] :: 0 comments
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