The end of the honeymoon has arrived.
I put all I had into the Christian walk. Every hope and dream. I longed so much to be close to God. I longed to do what is right. I saw the light. It was so beautiful that it consumed me. Now I have fallen from grace. My hearts desire has been crushed.
I'm backsliding as you would say in Christianese. It started with my counselor quitting. He broke my heart, but I thought,"It will be okay. I have God. He will show that He is enough. No sweat." Then I started fighting with all the friends that I have made over the last six months. The fights have gotten nastier every week, and end with more finality every time. The people that once trusted me have started looking at me like a burden. They try to give me advice, but it's like throwing pennies at a tank. I can never extract the love from them that I need. They know how much I need. They can tell by my blackhole presence threatening to consume them if they let me have my way, so they parry with the advice and empty words.
The people that once respected me, even looked up to me, now see only a helpless child. I've exposed myself as a fraud. I've exposed myself as a fraud to me. Have I really done enough? Did I try to hard on my own strength? The impossible nature of this walk has brought right to the edge of myself. It's impossible to ignore the feeling of betrayal here. I thought that it was understood that I couldn't keep myself out of trouble and you would take care of it. Where are you now? Why did you let me come to this place? Is there some divine purpose in you letting my treacherous soul run out of control? I know all the agony that this sin that grows in me now will bring, and has already brought. It's no secret. I know better. I cringe every step of the way. BUT I CAN'T STOP. Where are you? I can't do this.
The place I've come to is desolate. In my very soul the desire for blood is raging. I don't care who's it is. Could be a hapless aquaintence that stumbles unfortunately on my plight, but preferable it will be my own. The biggest tragedy of me is that I am the purveyor of destruction in my own life. I don't know how I so quickly descended to this place of hopelessness; was it really so sudden or have I been careering toward this path all along under the delusion that I was pursuing God. The only sliver of light in this cavern is the battered voice that calls to God aimlessly. You couldn't call it hope, but instinct, or corneredness. The monster that dwells in me in perching proudly over my soul. I'm overthrown, heartbroken and alone.
I can't fight myself. I'm entirely confused and confounded. The million words and meanings swirl around me like a hurricane, nothing slowing enough to identify it. I thought I held something. It was good and I sold myself to it. Now I feel it was a false deal, and I haven't a soul left to give to anything else. Like a jilted lover I wait outside my love's door with no where to go.
I've gotten drunk with the intent to bury the pain of my unloving soul. I've tried to bury it in sex. I've tried to bury it in romance. I've tried to bury it with drugs. This is that last two weeks of life. God. I needed you. I couldn't hold to you. I wanted to do your will. I failed. How on earth can I even dare another try? I've got no more to give. I feel dead inside.
I give up.