After Sunday morning worship, I went to go meet Brenda at Barnes and Noble because we were going to watch Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince with her friends. Everything was pretty normal; we (meaning Brenda and I) watched I Love You, Beth Cooper, which was actually not that bad of a movie. After the movie, we found her other friends watching Transformers 2 and watched for a bit before leaving to go save seats for Harry Potter.
Harry Potter was an okay movie. It left out some parts from the book that I was looking forward to seeing, (i.e. Dumbledore's funeral >.>) but aside from that, it was still, I think, a pretty good movie. After that movie was over, Brenda's friends went home and we sort of wandered around the mall for a while before deciding on splitting a cinnamon pretzel from Auntie Anne's. When we finished the pretzel, we walked around for a bit before she called her father to come pick her up.
When her father came to pick her up, we hugged (Why does that sound so weird to say? eh, maybe it's just me). To be honest, I didn't want to let go of her. I wanted to just hold her in my arms and never let go. But her dad was waiting for her in the car, so I couldn't.
...
Every time I see her, my heart is filled with an inexplicable joy. It may not seem like I'm ecstatic, and I'm sure that her friends who went with us (and she as well) could testify to that from the possibly emotionless expression on my face and lack of that lovey-dovey body language, but deep down, I'm practically skipping around with glee like those funny characters in manga.
When I held her, I didn't want to let go. Every time I hold her in my arms, I never wanted to let go. And every time I see her, every time we're together, every time we hug, all I want to do is cry because I'm so happy.
But something happened today. After she left, after I got home, after my parents left to go out on a walk, I cried. I laid on my bed and wept with such agony and pain that exploded out from the depths of my heart.
A while ago, someone (who shall of course remain nameless) asked me why I was in a relationship with Brenda. She didn't see how we high schoolers were in relationships with our peers at such a young age. I told her it was because Brenda filled the big, gaping emotional void in my heart. This person responded in kind by telling me that God is supposed to be enough to fill this emotional emptiness. That really wasn't what I meant, so I tried to rephrase: my heart is overflowing with love, and I need someone to pour that out onto, so in a sense, that was my emotional void, and Brenda was the one for me to show my love to (of course, that isn't the only reason why we're in a relationship, but I won't go into detail here).
It was because of this overflowing love that caused me to cry so deeply. I wept because I couldn't show this love to her. I couldn't smile, I couldn't hold her hand, I couldn't do anything. It was painful enough to not be able to show this love to her because we couldn't see each other, but now it hurts even more because I can't even show it to her when I am with her. It hurts so much that I can't do anything for her. I try so hard to make her happy, to show that I do love and care for her wholeheartedly, but I just screw up every single time.
...
Harry Potter was an okay movie. It left out some parts from the book that I was looking forward to seeing, (i.e. Dumbledore's funeral >.>) but aside from that, it was still, I think, a pretty good movie. After that movie was over, Brenda's friends went home and we sort of wandered around the mall for a while before deciding on splitting a cinnamon pretzel from Auntie Anne's. When we finished the pretzel, we walked around for a bit before she called her father to come pick her up.
When her father came to pick her up, we hugged (Why does that sound so weird to say? eh, maybe it's just me). To be honest, I didn't want to let go of her. I wanted to just hold her in my arms and never let go. But her dad was waiting for her in the car, so I couldn't.
...
Every time I see her, my heart is filled with an inexplicable joy. It may not seem like I'm ecstatic, and I'm sure that her friends who went with us (and she as well) could testify to that from the possibly emotionless expression on my face and lack of that lovey-dovey body language, but deep down, I'm practically skipping around with glee like those funny characters in manga.
When I held her, I didn't want to let go. Every time I hold her in my arms, I never wanted to let go. And every time I see her, every time we're together, every time we hug, all I want to do is cry because I'm so happy.
But something happened today. After she left, after I got home, after my parents left to go out on a walk, I cried. I laid on my bed and wept with such agony and pain that exploded out from the depths of my heart.
A while ago, someone (who shall of course remain nameless) asked me why I was in a relationship with Brenda. She didn't see how we high schoolers were in relationships with our peers at such a young age. I told her it was because Brenda filled the big, gaping emotional void in my heart. This person responded in kind by telling me that God is supposed to be enough to fill this emotional emptiness. That really wasn't what I meant, so I tried to rephrase: my heart is overflowing with love, and I need someone to pour that out onto, so in a sense, that was my emotional void, and Brenda was the one for me to show my love to (of course, that isn't the only reason why we're in a relationship, but I won't go into detail here).
It was because of this overflowing love that caused me to cry so deeply. I wept because I couldn't show this love to her. I couldn't smile, I couldn't hold her hand, I couldn't do anything. It was painful enough to not be able to show this love to her because we couldn't see each other, but now it hurts even more because I can't even show it to her when I am with her. It hurts so much that I can't do anything for her. I try so hard to make her happy, to show that I do love and care for her wholeheartedly, but I just screw up every single time.
...
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