Tuesday, March 5, 2013

I Did It

And it didn't kill me. It seems as though somehow, through my natural proclivity for buffoonery, I managed to get my point across without being threatening... or creepy... or repulsive... or whatever. This is a big deal. It's like there was a glimpse of someone... healthy. The filth of my lost decade -- my own version of the Filth Of Saruman -- is washing away.

The crazy thing is, I have no more clarity on any of my "big questions" than I did before this evening. But the power of being able to step forward, look a man directly in the eyes, and say... dude, look, you're amazing and awesome and I would totally just ask you out if I were not busy working on myself, but I need to work on myself, but I really think you are amazing and awesome and I just don't know what to do about it... well, the words apparently came out rather well because the spectacularly beautiful recipient of those words did not shrug, did not recoil, did not jump out of the car -- oh, right, I forgot to mention that I was driving at the time -- and essentially said "yes, let's hang out sometime, that would be good." And he owned his own non-committal tone. He spoke directly to it, about being protective of his alone time. And yet, he also spoke clearly of wanting to get to know me outside of school. Magic words, those.

And, with God as my witness, I was able to openly and honestly look him directly in the eye and say... "dude, I get it. No, I mean, I really get it." And pointed out to him, again, that I live 15 miles from campus for a reason. And that really, driving him home after school is literally on the way home. Literally, as in, offramp to his place leads to onramp toward my place. For God's sake, Philip, use less adverbs! Dude, seriously!

The heavenly host must be laughing their asses off at the silliness of me, a mere mortal. And, when you think about it, the whole thing is silly. But hey, it feels good to feel... not broken. Even if for just a few minutes. I mean, really... I'm almost 42 years old physically, probably about 32 years old emotionally in most ways, but when it comes to dating and relationships? I dunno; sometimes I wonder if I'm even 18 years old when it comes to relationships. Or maybe I'm 32 years old but retarded. That is so un-PC of me, but there. I said it. I did it. I own it. Let the church say AMEN to honesty.

And isn't it surreal -- in a good way -- to carry a torch for a man who is preaching on the same pericope I am preaching on this weekend?

God, thank you. For your many manifest ways of caring for me, I thank you. I remain humbled by your generosity, and I hope to be worthy of it in my remaining days, weeks, months, and years of this life. I will also praise you with the harp for your faithfulness, O my God; I will sing praises to you with the lyre, O Holy One of Israel. My lips will shout for joy when I sing praises to you; my soul also, which you have rescued. (Psalm 71:22-23)

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