How is it possible that a 40 minute drive can shatter one's life? I'm still feeling the repercussions of my drive last Saturday and for me, that drive brought everything that I've been dealing with over the past five months to the surface again. I had been doing pretty well, but now my life is a churning, roiling cauldron of difficult emotions that I can't seem to control. I'm just along for the ride it seems, and I can only wait until it all settles down again, and after half a week it hasn't subsided at all.
Most of all I suppose I feel the powerful pain of rejection from Meg and all that it entails. I'm filled with doubt about anyone ever loving me again, I feel very undesirable and unappealing and unattractive. I fear that it will be a long time before I find someone. I think back on a letter I read a few months ago that I had written to my future wife, saying that I hope that I would find her soon. I wrote that ten years ago, and sometimes I fear that it could be ten years more.
When I think about that possibility, those words of Edward in Jane Eyre come to mind: I'd rather die than not have a wife. That's not too far from the truth.
But then I think that perhaps the idea of having a wife has gained too much traction in my life. There's something always vying for our affections and perhaps my desire for a wife is too great.
I don't know--all I know is that I don't like this lonely life, and I hope and pray that God would bring a companion to my life soon. But today, I am in a point of despair where I can't imagine who that woman might be, and that no woman who I desire will ever desire me. Meg dating me feels like an aberration. I know others would argue the point, but it's how I feel and based on any of my past romantic pursuits, that is born out. I'm no alpha male--it seems I'm the guy who women view as nothing more than the scraps.
That about sums up how I feel about myself.