S'okay.

I always say that its okay and that everything is no big deal, whether its a D in APUSH or another B in calc, whether its the expected loss in badminton or some embarrassing moment when people drop food on themselves. Its okay to feel like crap every morning, almost, and sometimes, its even okay to feel like crap going to sleep. Its okay to have emotional misunderstandings and its okay if my parents anger for no good reason. What is anything in light of eternity? For if I could speak in tongues and have all the world's knowledge, but have not love, I am nothing, we are nothing. 1 Corinthians 13!  So, by default, basically, everything is okay.

Yet in my conviction that its okay, its not, supposedly, allegedly, and it matters very much. Its not okay because in my imperfect forgiveness, there is an underwhelming anger that rises on cue with every reminder, a barely restrained urge to reciprocate some tangible level of pain - a sadness, apparently, because even when I smile and cringe at the same time, repeating that its okay, there are uncontrollable tears swelling beneath my eyes. Every time, a gloomy dullness presses me, which, in some sadist, ironic way, breaks my closing heart, but not for myself, I guess, but for something sacred and, regardless of circumstances, singularly possessed.

Morality

Broken, finally, by my mom, actually, while discussing, of all things, not sex, but abortion.
I mean we talked about sex too but thinking of how much life was destroyed in even my own family sent shock through my stomach. I didn't think I would cry for someone I never knew if I barely shed a tear for my grandparents, yet, I guess, in this weekend of crazy, quite the trauma has been buildling pressure.

This fanatical week has turned my mind in circles, or ellipses, and if you find the area under the curve, just use 3i/n for the input of a function of a summation, assuming i = 0 and n is just n. But seriously, I'm forced to question my ready acceptance and my flickering priorities, to question my deepest motives, to analyze my nonsensical responses to worry and affection. How interesting, to live in the hypothetical, then to realize that it isn't hypothetical at all, but completely and nightmarishly real. Maybe only time will reveal whether two really work better when they are one.

There are so many expectations tagged onto a status and the shallowness of the title. Living under a formality takes away the best part, the real deets, the friendship. We will glorify God and be pure in all eyes, even though from an impersonal perspective, its all very strange, mostly because we (I) sweat too much. I feel as if all but the subjects of scrutiny see the relationship as, in the best sense, cute, as if two very confused people are experimenting, perhaps precariously, despite the logical fallacies of every aspect of it. I sense a general idea that there is a wavering awkwardness and a reserved fear of one another, when at least today, I have to say, it was a sadness, a diminishing anger, a careful peace, and five hours of sleep. In some ways, I wish I could make people understand, but most of the time, I can only pray and be grateful for yet another unexpected, explosive blessing.

Forgiveness.

Excuse my double post but for lack of conscious thoughts, FORGIVENESS IS REALLY HARD.

Trust is hard to earn.
Infatuation takes too long to pass.
I question my own motives.
I need to glorify God in these things. We have glorify God. There is, at the very least, a purpose beyond having fun.

From a psychological study perspective, the onslaughts of berating strings of swears is unnaturally out of line with so much smiling and hand-holding. I should probably look at the universe again, because once again, I'm struggling to finish my homework and to refrain from cutting a select many people.

I guess this is the time for moral questions. I wonder what God is setting up for us at this time of the year. Why did everything happen this weekend.