Dreams

Sometimes I do not want to write. But I will be laying in bed and this need washes over me, and I have to wake up my computer and let my hands find the keys that they are meant to. I cannot explain it. I cannot force it. It just simply happens.
Lately I have not wanted to write. I have fought the feeling, the need, the desire. I do not want to share my thoughts with the world. Because the world does not need to know what I am currently thinking. Then I receive a call from a friend, thanking me for sharing my heart. Thanking me for being so honest. And I am reminded why I do this. I do it to get the words outside of me. Once they are no longer in me, they are living. The thoughts are real, they latch on to some obscure truth and become a reality. I cannot stop it. This has to happen. Sometimes, sometimes... sometimes these thoughts touch other people. I write because I am selfish. I write because I am selfless.
I have recently felt a huge need to let go of someone whom I care about very much. I am so in love with this person, that letting go of them has sunk me into the deepest pit of despair that I have been in in six years. And it feels terrible. And oddly freeing. I have never been able to trust God with this person. What a horrible thing for me. I held on. Tightly. For dear life. This person to me is a dream. Some truth out there that I longed to grasp, to hold on to, to never let go of. A dream that I passionately desired (and still do desire). But I had to let go... because it was not right. Holding onto him was not right. It was not Godly. This kills me.
I do not know if I will end up with this person. Though, until two weeks ago, this was one of two truths that I believed with all of my heart. I do not know if we will end up being one of those couples that Gabriel García Márquez or Jane Austen wrote about in Love In The Time of Cholera or Persuasion. I do not know that we have a happy ending. This terrifies me. I hope and pray with all my heart that we end up together in the end. That we get our happy ending. This is what I long for, what I desire.
Circumstances, life, keeps us apart. Maybe it is for the best. Our futures do not line up. In the slightest.
As I was thinking about this tonight, something odd and wonderful hit me. As I've said, I have been sure of two things for the past few years. One was that I was supposed to be with this man. The other was that I am supposed to be an opera singer. Yet this sometimes did waver.
When I was younger and going off to college, I had two dreams. I was unsure of which to entertain. One was to become involved in music in some capacity and the other was to become a missionary to Africa. I have a deep heart for that continent. Oddly enough, God has lead this man to be a missionary. I have wondered, especially as of late, if I ended up making the wrong choice. Maybe I didn't quite hear God right? Maybe I misunderstood?
This man's mother and I keep in contact. As I questioned myself and opened up to her lately, she was harsh enough and kind enough to tell me the truth about becoming a missionary. After learning the things that one has to go through in order to even get to the mission field, I realized with a broken heart, that this is something that I would never even be able to do. Due to my many health issues and weird food allergies, there is no possible way that I would even pass the tests to be eligible to go. Even if I gave up the one dream for the other, I would not be able to join him on the field. This realization has destroyed me.
Yet tonight I realized something else. For a long time, I wanted to play the piano. This was my passion. Then I was diagnosed with carpel tunnel and tendonitis... making it pretty impossible to make this a career. This is how I started singing more seriously. I have always said that singing chose me, I did not choose it. But I have also always wondered if it was the right decision... now that I have learned about the difficulty of being able to become a missionary to foreign countries, I have realized that singing is the right thing. It is where I am supposed to minister. This is both frightening and enlightening.
In letting go of one dream, I find myself easier able to embrace the other.
I am still heart broken. Still in the deepest pit of depression that I have been in in years. Yet I know it will get better... my stash of pain killers is safely hidden in my roommates room. I have my eyes re-focused on God. Together, we will get through this. Though the tears keep falling... one day they will stop. One day I will understand why this all has happened. I will talk to this man again and he will give me answers to many currently unanswered questions. We will remain friends. I will always love him. Maybe one day... when we are old and gray... we will find each other again.
One can only dream :o)