There is no try, either you do or you do not.

When I get nervous, I shake my leg. When I get really depressed, I shake my leg. When I'm angry and trying to calm down, I shake my leg. When I'm anxious, I shake my leg. When I'm coaxing myself to sleep, I shake my leg. When I'm watching television or reading a book (focusing on what I'm into), I shake my leg. .When I'm with Chad, while I am lying beside him, I don't shake my leg. I'm shaking my leg as I type. It's sort of like a stress reliever. It keeps my mind busy on movement, instead of wandering endlessly into open spaces of over-thinking.
I keep expecting to go to my phone and see "one message from Chad Evans" (his name is labelled "everything" in my cellular device.); I haven't seen that message yet. I asked him why we we're together. I asked him this Sunday. Saturday night, we seemed dandy. As a matter of fact, we seem dandy everyday-with the exception of this afternoon. He doesn't want a girlfriend right now. More than that, he doesn't want to tell anyone he has a girlfriend. He wants the perks, and I want the perks,too. So, after he explained (more or less-I would say less) that he just wanted to act how we had been acting, I came to the conclusion that I shouldn't have mentioned being a couple in the first place. I've been single for a month. Since February the twenty-eighth, which coincidentally is the same date of the month that I gave Chad everything because I imagined a big, happy married life with him...September twenty-eighth. I stop dreaming that happy marriage today,yes; it ends today. I can not lie to myself. I can not tell myself to wait for him. I say that I can't help it that there is no one else. That can't be true. You pick and choose who you love. I love Chad, I know this. He knows this. Somehow, the whole "Oh, it is love, from the first time I set my eyes unto you, thinking, oh, it is love," is not so much of a fact as it is an opinion. At the moment, it seems to just be my opinion. I bluntly exclaimed that all, every inch of satisfaction would come to me if he would just say "I love you." He couldn't, or..he wouldn't. Breathe in, close your eyes. I can't sit here and soak in some drowned pool of tears, I don't want to cry. I won't cry. Yes, he helped me. Yes, he was wonderful. Yes, he is going to be someone ravishing. But so am I. I have to start up my business. I have to stop trying to stop. What is there to stop but only myself. I am the only obstacle blocking my gain. I am the only thing that is slowing down my opportunities. I, and I alone, am the reason that I have not excelled yet. I went to the internet and looked up the date for September twenty-eighth. This strange website came up that had simply this on the page: "What happened on September twenty-eighth?" (and the answer was a short space below it, that read,) "A beautiful girl named Amanda was born." I found this to be sort of ironic. I was born. I realize, apparently, this wasn't describing me because my birthday isn't until December, yet I still kept reading that sentence:"A beautiful girl named Amanda was born." Rise up, oh, ye sleepers, rise up!
Who would give a law to lovers? Love is unto itself a higher law.

Substitute problem with opportunity

You walk through the door, all eyes on you. You feel your hands sweating, your heart is pumping like a man in a gym. You can barely hold anything in your palms. It's almost as if you are becoming weightless. You are the main attraction, your grace is intricate. There is nothing that could distract the crowd from your steps. The air smells of spring-lilies and duckies. You've never been more beautiful, you've never seen such beauty yourself. You look ahead, and no matter the eyes you catch-you are captivated by one destination-your groom. A moment like this, oh how you've waited. Oh, how there is just one thing on your mind, forever-him.
Two days ago, I had full confidence that Chad was who I was going to marry. I knew, for a fact, that he was everything I wanted. I didn't have a doubt that he would be mine again, perhaps not now-but someday. Yesterday, I told him this. I explored my mind. I explained that I wanted to work together-amount things for God in a team-be one, as two. He ventured a different subject and stumbled in the wary words that he would call me that night and tell me his own wants and goals. He didn't. We were both rather sleepy, so I accepted that. This morning came along and I wanted to text an immensely long message explaining that I wanted to love him and he was pushing me away (it seems like people who get scared of love are good at pushing love away). I was once in those shoes, tying those same shoe strings. Chad was the one who laced them up in a different fashion. Chad was the one that convinced me love was real. Why would he spend so many hours trying to woe me, so many days persuading me that he wanted to be betrothed to me, just to leave. "I will never leave you, Amanda-I promise." Those words, they are so simple, so easy to wrap around. So very, very small... to someone else. To me, those words are my security for happiness. Did God only give Chad to me to help me grow? Did God only supply me with Chad so that I could mature? Did Chad only give me God to help me realize my purpose?I know that God knows exactly what I need and exactly where I'm going. I trust him, I'm not worried. I'm just a little scared and not willing. Once I let myself be willing to accept anything-I know that I will be installed with pure joy. I need joy. I thrive on joy.
It's one of those rainy days where you just would be delighted to slumber.
I wonder if it's raining in Heidelberg? I wonder if Chad is exhausted? I wonder if he is having a dandy day? I wonder if he's talking to his friends, or thinking about what I'm thinking about? I wonder if he's praying-reading? I wonder if he is happy?

Sometimes, you just aren't going to know. And so I do not.