Some people you know. Some people you don't. Either one is capable of screwing you over.
Our fourth roommate backed out of moving in the day before she was planned to, and now we don't know how to afford rent.
A close, family friend of Allen's, much like a surrogate father, called me "small minded, foolish, and scared."
Today was supposed to be mine and Allen's 11 month anniversary. Happy anniversary to me...
I made a joke about Winston Churchill. Dear lord, everyone does. Allen's friend...we'll call him...Tom...started a conversation about American history. Someone we got onto the topic of Churchill, and he said, “Churchill had the balls to do things other men weren’t brave enough to.” And I said, in the most obvious joking tone I could muster, said “Yeah, because Churchill drank enough to do so.” Without so much as a pause, he exploded. “Ashley, that is what small-minded, stupid, foolish people say when they have no other reason to dislike him."
Everyone knows Churchill drank profusely. It's not dirty laundry, it was an well-known fact. And I love Churchill. He’s one of my favorite historical figures. I was speaking with the thought that we were on common ground with a similar understanding.
I don't.
Our fourth roommate backed out of moving in the day before she was planned to, and now we don't know how to afford rent.
A close, family friend of Allen's, much like a surrogate father, called me "small minded, foolish, and scared."
Today was supposed to be mine and Allen's 11 month anniversary. Happy anniversary to me...
I made a joke about Winston Churchill. Dear lord, everyone does. Allen's friend...we'll call him...Tom...started a conversation about American history. Someone we got onto the topic of Churchill, and he said, “Churchill had the balls to do things other men weren’t brave enough to.” And I said, in the most obvious joking tone I could muster, said “Yeah, because Churchill drank enough to do so.” Without so much as a pause, he exploded. “Ashley, that is what small-minded, stupid, foolish people say when they have no other reason to dislike him."
Everyone knows Churchill drank profusely. It's not dirty laundry, it was an well-known fact. And I love Churchill. He’s one of my favorite historical figures. I was speaking with the thought that we were on common ground with a similar understanding.
Anyway, the table became very quiet and awkward. I didn’t say anything because I was afraid to. The conversation eventually picked up again, but I didn’t participate. Later I asked Allen if I could have the keys to his car because I “had to make a phone call.” I cried for the better part of 30 minutes. Allen had to find me. He made us stay the rest of the night, and by the time we left it was 11pm, way too late to still go out and celebrate. The mood was killed anyway.
Everyone I found commonality with and comfort in is now somehow becoming what I try to get away from here. I feel like these journaling periods are the only times I get to breathe again. And then when the hour is over, I have to take one last breath before I go under again.
Cognitively, I know God is with me. But I don’t feel him anymore. It’s been a long time since I felt like that. Moving is scary enough, I don’t want to do it alone, or feel like I’m doing it alone.
Where do I see God at work?
Unsure.
What do I hear God saying?
"Go to bed. Try again in the morning."
Where do I see God moving?
