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It is way too late for me to still be up. But I never want to go to bed after I work for some reason. At least I’m not running outside though…baby steps.

Tonight I had a really long talk with my co-worker Clint about God and life and everything in between. It was…hard. Clint is so cynical and logical. He is smart and had an intelligent comeback whenever I would say what I believed or what had happened in my life that made God so real to me. It seems almost impossible for the walls around his heart to be broken down.

Thank goodness my God has torn down bigger walls before. Both literal and figurative.

Can I be brutally honest tonight? Like…really honest. I’m not in the mood for pretending I figured something out today.

This cynicism of Clint’s about religion and spirituality…it reminded me of my cynicism. Guys, I’ve gotten really bad. There is literally almost no optimism left in my heart in this area. I’m twenty and I’m done. How is that even possible? I hear fellow single girls say they can’t wait to get married and I sigh in disgust. But I hear my taken friends talk about their men and my heart is pierced…deep down, I’m not content. I’m not a man hater, I’m not a feminist. I don’t want to live the rest of my life alone. And I pretend I’m ok with my comments about not wanting a guy anyways because they’re all awkward or losers or just weird. I make jokes about it being a miracle if I ever find someone, but deep down, I’m not laughing.

A friend and I were talking the other night, and he called me out on being too pessimistic. I know I am. But honestly guys, I don’t know what else to be. Sometimes I just don’t know how to handle all of my friends dating people. And I refuse to be that girl that is always crying and wishing she had it too. My friends don’t deserve that.

And so I joke about it. I pretend like it’s no big deal, like I don’t want it anyways. Like I would pass even if the opportunity arrived. I joke about being an old maid someday. About owning a bunch of cats. I tell friends I won’t find a boy for awhile…at least until all my close friends are all married. But this joking…it’s not really joking, and I really don’t think it’s funny. I just sometimes don’t know what to say. And I’m sick of making friends feel guilty, I’m sick of pity parties. So I joke around. I make fun of couples and the Grace girl virus that can only be cured with a ring by spring….all the while, my heart just gets more and more tired. And the walls of cynicism get higher and higher.

Because I am really sick of being disappointed.

Maybe if it weren’t 1:55 a.m. I would delete this. I warned you…this is really honest. I’m messing up. Big time. And I don’t even know what to do about this.

Looks like Clint and I have a few more things in common than I thought.

And it looks like God’s got a lot of work to do.

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