The Problem

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord. "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future"
~Jeremiah 29:11

As I sit here looking at the computer screen, I realize something. If I''m going to start writing posts like this after I decide to go to bed, I should probably get a pair of glasses, since with my contacts out I really can't see too well what I'm typing. Here's hoping I don't type anything embarassing...

Jump back 5 minutes or so, and I'm lying in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking about relationships and many of the issues that go along with them. I'm thinking about all of this, and how some of my relationships have petered out since starting college, and I'm brought again to the crashing realization that I feel like half a person right now. I mean, sure, at least I'm the smart and sometimes witty half, but that other half leaves quite the hole in its absence.

Time for some backstory. I've never been what one might call a very social person. I wish this wasn't so, but events conspired and God planned to make it so. Regardless, much of my childhood was spent with only having a few "friends" at a time. Maybe I could blame it on Dad's job, and that we always seemed to end up at small congregations, but that's only part of it, and not really all that big of one either. Maybe I could blame this on there never really being all that many kids around wherever we lived, but that hardly works either, since the kids that did live near us were usually my age. I'm going to say that this is just the way God made me to be at first, but I do NOT believe that He means for me to be that way forever.

Starting when I got into 5th grade, I had more friends around me most of the time. What brings about this sudden change? We moved to a new town, and went to a bigger school. Here's the catch. Sure, the school we went to was bigger, but it was 10 miles away, and so was everyone else who went there. Guess what this meant? It meant that since we really didn't have the car-power to transport Dave back and forth to frined's houses all the time, even if he'd been invited to many parties he couldn't go too often. I don't begrudge anyone for this, things happen, it falls to us to make the best of the situation.

But Dave never really got invited to anything. Sure, at school Dave was "the new kid" and some kids made the effort to make me feel part of the group, and I thank them for that. Some kids couldn't care less if I had a bloody nose every recess for half a week (true story), after all, I wasn't that great a football player and I had those geeky glasses to boot. I don't hold grudges for that. I refuse to believe that I'm such a cool person that everyone should just automatically like me, no questions asked. Besides, I'd rather have a few close friends than many average friends any day of the week. Looking back at those years now though, I realize that I acted like an outsider sometimes. "I didn't grow up here, why should I know that?" "I live 10 miles from here," "I just moved here, I don't know where that is," etc. etc. I also did something that no self-respecting student in grade school should do... that's right, I would regularly read books for fun. I know, foolish, right? But that was me.

Fast-forward a few years to when I get into high school. I had the distinct "pleasure" of my two older siblings not only having gone to the same high school, but still being there when I got in. Whatever. I had my crushes in high school, I'd even had a few childish ones in grade school. But for some reason I never acted on any of them. Enter stage right, Dave the Coward. I came up with reasons why I shouldn't ask these girls out. A pretty popular one was that they wre already dating someone, and I had no need or want for that kind of drama. My favorite though was, "What if I mess up?"

Have you ever been so afraid of screwing something up and hurting someone you've been friends with for years that you don't even try? I have. Katie, Lyzz, I'm sorry I was such a coward. Have you ever finally screwed up the courage to jump somewhere you know you have no clue what's going to happen, but you hoope that someone you care about will go with you? I have. Has that person ripped out your heart and tripped you before you even got to the jump? What do you do then?

You fall back on faith and tell yourself, "God must not have it in the cards for me yet." You keep telling yourself that until you almost fully believe it. You settle back into being as good a friend as you can be, and let every opportunity pass you by because you're a coward, because "I'll only screw up."

Then she drops out of the sky, or, in my case, rolls onto the skating rink. For a time I was truly happy, and now that's somewhere between limbo and existence as well.

God, this didn't go where I was planning.... not at all. What I meant to talk about is I feel I've pinpointed something of my problem with people. Don't get me wrong, I like people, don't know what I'd do without them. But as much as I'd like to be a social person, I'm held back by my gut feeling. That gut feeling almost always tells me the same thing. "Dave," it says, "You're being the third wheel in this group, and the group wasn't designed to be a tricycle." Let's pretend though that I'm even just the only other person in the room at the time, or that by some miracle I've attracted someone's attention. I don't know what to say. All those clever pickup lines that I joke abouot with some friends abandon me, and I'm left there feeling like a dumb mute, my intellect tied up with the question, "What could I talk about that this person could possibly care about?"

Compounding this problem is that I am not, I repeat, NOT! a person who likes talking. Contrary to my siblings' opinions, I actually am not too thrilled with the sound of my own voice. I do not feel that I have any skill at small talk--no matter what my mother may tell me. And then while I'm trying to come up with some conversational question, or something to say, whoever I'm "talking" with slowly comes to the realization that I just may not be all that interesting of a person. Jump to me walking back to my apartment, alone, instead of going off somewhere to hang out and have fun. Sometimes, I hate where my life is

Against my better judgment, I think I'll actually post this. I trust the one person I know will probably read it, and to anyone else, here's a piece of Dave's soul.



Maybe I don't need the glasses. I typed this with my eyes shut.