This post is mostly for myself. To let out some steam through writing. If you’re reading this, I don’t expect to see it being passed around as this profound, “I’m tired of being single but God is good” post. I know how annoying those get.

No, in this case I just want to share how frustrated I am that not only am I single, but that I have always been single, I’ve never had sex (comes with being chronically single USUALLY), I’ve never kissed anyone, I’ve never gone on a date, I’ve never been seriously pursued, I’ve never been sought after. Not once. Not even once.

I’ve never been on the other side of heartbreak either, so I don’t have experience of love AND rejection. But I do have experience with just rejection. It absolutely SUCKS to live your whole life thinking you aren’t desirable, wanted, needed, loved, or mattered from a man. Yes, I have friends and family who have been great and I don’t want to dismiss that by any means. But I’m 22 and people around me are getting married, starting their lives, having kids, etc.

And here I am just sitting on a Saturday night, sulking a bit, yes, but sad. Ultimately sad and utterly heartbroken. You know the phrase, “It’s better to have love and lost than to never have loved at all”? I feel that. Deeply, deeply feel that. I’ve never had the chance to love someone. Isn’t that life’s greatest joy? But it isn’t it life’s greatest disappointment? Oh, the paradox.

I know Jesus took heartbreak when he died on the cross but it’s so so hard not to be identified by this unfortunate circumstance. You can bet your bottom dollar that I’ve cried out angry at God for not bringing along someone I can love. Because I know I can love. I have so much I want to give. I would be so willing to give my heart to someone to take care of and I would be willing to take care of someone else’s heart. I’ve not met anyone willing to explore love with me. I know it’s in those moments where God gently whispers, “Let me. Please, can I hold you?”

I am reminded of his love through the whisper, but my heart is still screaming. Screaming out for a rope, something that I can at least hold on to for a little while, while I wait. Because if I have no shred of hope, I’ll go seeking for something that will help me feel better. And that’s exactly what I do. I fill that crevice of my heart with silly, frivolous things that don’t really give me my heart’s desire. I want to walk away from it but it’s here for me. I don’t want to be tossed around in these silly desires, but I have nothing else to hold on.

It seems like the cross isn’t enough for me. I know how to get there but how do I stay there? I get there for a moment and then walk away from the freedom Jesus so lovingly offers. Every day is a battle. Every hour is a battle. Every minute is a battle. Every second is a battle. How does the Lord enter that crevice of my mind in those seconds, minutes, hours, days?

I want to look at love and be inspired, motivated, and energized. When I look towards Jesus I get those things. But is it too much to ask that I want to find that in a man? I want to be inspired, motivated, and energized by a partner, a friend, and a lover. To think that those things can exist within two people’s relationship is incredible. To be able to pair my relational capital with Jesus and my relational capital with my husband is the ultimate bond of love, in my opinion.

I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense. Take it as you will and interpret it for yourself however you want. In case anyone was wondering, this snow week off from responsibility is the culprit of such thoughts above.

“God in my laughing, there in my weeping. God in my hurting, God in my healing. Be my everything.”