Others

It’s coming back again. I’m looking forward to the day when I can sing “Near to You” to someone and actually mean it.

Jolene gets to count down the days til her special someone returns from sailing with the navy. Looks like I’ll be counting the days til you go in absolute silence or counting the days til I get someone too. I know, everyone says that he’ll come soon and all in God’s good time but I’d love to have someone to put my arm around or to suddenly grab me by the waist just for fun. Someone to be full of rubbish with, to ask random questions again, and to look (work) toward a bright future with.

I know I should be all nice and say I hope you do well in Oz and come back safely. But first, unfortunately, a part of me wishes you’d hurt, suffer and come back. Stupid. I hate myself for that. I guess it’s like those maniac lovers “if I can’t have you then no one can!” stupid stance. I know, if I look much deeper then that’s not what I want at all. I want us both to move on (or just me if you already have). I still love you and it’s not fair! Not fair that I have to love you because I don’t know what else to do with you. I can’t hate you and I can’t be lukewarm. It’s just not me.

That’s one reason why I just don’t want to go and study at Oz. It’ll be torture. But then again, it’s torture here anyway so what on earth is the difference?!

GOD!!!! HELP PLEASE. quick.. ):

mj.xxoo

A love letter.

Dear Peter Parker,

xxoo,

MJ

I won’t forget. Will you forget?

Squash

Maybe I just needed to find an excuse to talk to you. About anything. Even a squash ball. Stupid.

Every Sunday I half dread, half get excited about going to church. Dread because Sunday just isn’t enough. Excited because I get to see you. To turn and see you walk (almost saunter) into church and sit so near and yet so far away. To steal glances or sometimes stares at you wishing I could be next to you again.

And then church ends and I hang around wanting to see you before you go. Just to watch your back as you walk off and never turn around. And then it’s over. Those few precious hours gone.

You asked me how I’d been. “okay” was my short and almost-true reply. More and more I find myself feeling like a naughty little girl whose disobedience has been to love you.

I’m sorry.

I’ll try to be better tomorrow.

MJ.xxoo

What sucks the most.

This is like the constant argument in Grey’s where the doctors keep trying to prove that their life sucks more than their friends’. This time I’ve got a good one so maybe I win (especially since I only have myself to compete with!).

I have something I want to tell you. It’s simple and short. Takes hardly a few seconds to say but would mean a life time for me. Those words make my heart ache. Those words make tears spill over my eyes and down my cheeks. Those words are always threatening to leap from my mouth when our eyes meet. Those words encompass all I feel and have felt since I’ve known you.

I love you.

So, right now, my heart is like a dam. About to burst because I don’t know where to spill this immense volume of love I hold for you. You won’t accept it. Now I find myself, groping in the darkness for that tap. The tap that once turned opens an outlet for that strong surge of emotions. I keep turning taps but they’re either rusted through and jammed or duds. The tap to you, though almost gleaming new, is wrapped in barbed wire. Shucks.

I suck. Seriously suck at this.

MJ.xxoo

BNBH

There’s so much I want to say. So much I want to do with you. But most of all, I just want to look at you, sit with you and not say anything. Because, frankly, that would be enough.

Stupidity of all stupidity really.

I’m still hoping that you’ll come back. I keep walking on, hoping you’re just around the corner ready to start again. I look back over my shoulder hoping you’re behind me calling out for me to slow down so you can catch up with me and take my hand. Hoping that you’ll be at the finish line of the next race to kiss your hot and sweaty girl. I hope that you’ll suddenly call me MJ again and be my Peter Parker.

I keep hoping you’ll turn around and tell me you just can’t go on without me whether we’ll be seperated by distance or not.

And sometimes, well sometimes, being there for someone doesn’t necessarily mean being there physically. It can just mean being there. The knowledge of someone special holding out for you, who wants you, needs you, loves you and longs to be with you can sometimes be all we need just to pull through. They don’t have to hold you tight, breathe on your face, dry you hair, laugh at your stupid jokes they just need to be there. That’s what I want to do. You may go to Australia for years and maybe I won’t be with you for years, but I still want to be with you. Know that I’m yours and you’re mine. That’s all. Sometimes knowledge is better than nothing.

We’re not kids anymore. You can’t kiss and run. Stay. Just stay with me.

amyruth.xxoo

the school on the paper.

NOTE: This is a super old post. Just found it in my drafts.

what do you do when you’re jealous? serious. i feel quite jealous now. don’t ask me why when i have had my fair share of ups. i just hate this whole system. youre only good if you do the cliche stuff. go the way everyone expects you to go. sometimes i wonder what life would be like if i did what everyone expected me to do.would i then have been accepted by my friends, teachers etc?yes.i am sure i would have.they would have deemed me as worthy and making the right choice.going the right way.maximising my potential.i just feel like crying to think i have done so much,they have done so much and now that i have not done one thing they wished i had,i go.i’m suddenly pushed out of the picture.no longer recognised.you suck you know that?it was all an act wasn’t it?just to get you to look good you used me.then i made a ‘mistake’ and you scrapped me.in the end its got nothing to with us.its just about the institution i tell you.come into my shoes and you’ll see the truth.nothing about it.just pride.they ain’t helping you.you gotta help yourself.so do it.just do it.don’t listen to them.you gotta push yourself for God .not for any other human being.even a place like that.they ain’t the real ones looking for the real thing for you.

Perspective

NOTE: This is a super old post. Just found it in my drafts.

Wow. Seriously church was wonderful today. The songs of praise was really good and relevant to the sermon which was about faith. Uncles Stephen spoke. 3 parts: Bases of faith, barriers of faith and crisis and faith. Especially coming from him it spoke to me. After all he and his family has been through, I really can see that faith in every circumstance is possible. Just like Hudson Taylor. He had faith. After going to China as a missionary he had to bury 5 out of 10 of his children and his first wife. He died there eventually. But through all of that he didn’t lose his faith in Christ. Like Uncle Stephen pointed out, no servant is greater than his master therefore why should we expect not to go through any suffering let alone the worst suffering we could possibly think of? There was loads more that he talked about. Will post the links to the notes when I get the link. It all has to do with perspective doesn’t it? If we get the right perspective and know how able our God is then problems and trials around us would not seem so big. Why? Cos our God is way bigger than all of our situations put together! I’m not saying not to worry but hey, he can do it, so put it at his feet. Surrender to him!

guarded.

It has taken me this long to realise it. But I think I have pretty much figured it all out now. It was all an act. Yes, an act.

I’d love to believe it. I’d love to believe a lot of things. But I know that in this world it is highly impossible. That’s real sad.

I figured that the reason I was crushed was because I was trying to guard my own heart. I was trying to protect myself. But if it’s me against this world, then I am doomed. No matter how careful, or distant, or cold I try to be, I will eventually get really hurt or I will stop loving. And I do not wish for either.

So how should it have been? My heart should have been guarded by Jesus. That’s what would have kept me safe. The thing is, Jesus guards my heart only for as long and as much as I let him. But this I know, if I choose to have him guard my heart from the devil and all this world has to offer, whoever wants to get to my heart will have to go through him. Just like the boy/man who wishes to be personally involved in the matters of my heart will have to go through my family and friends. No, I am not saying that with Him as the guardian of my heart I will never be hurt by this world but rather that when I am hurt (which will be minimized) He will be so much closer to help me through it all. Whoever He lets close to my heart will be there to play a part in protecting my heart from this world and all it has to offer. No, Jesus does not NEED someone to help Him protect me, He just provides this opportunity for the excercising of brotherly and sisterly love in Christ Jesus. He could jolly well protect His own creation. Man is not vital to him when it comes to handling the world He created.

In the same way, I pray that when Jesus lets me into the heart of another person, I will be able to help protect him/her.

Come and make my heart Your home.
Come and be everything I am and all I know.
Search me through and through ’till my heart becomes a home for You.
A home for You, Lord.
A home for You, Lord.
Let everything I do open up,
A door for You to come through,
And that my heart would be a place where You want to be.

amyruthxxoo

all i ever wanted.

i give up. i have to let it all out now. there’s no way i’m keeping it. so much has happened. so many questions. so many thoughts.

gramps left almost 2 weeks ago. peacefully in his sleep. half way around the world. i haven’t really cried about it yet. it’s all inside. do you have any idea just how much it sucks to be so far away from all of this? mummy went over a few days before he left. daddy left about a week ago. i hate being stuck here. when people i love are over there hurting and i dont have a chance to be there. it sucks. it hurts. i just can’t describe it.

and yet i can’t cry about it. i don’t dare cry in front of others. or maybe i don’t want to. you tell me. am i becoming heartless? proud?

he never ate hot toast. he let it cool on his napkin ring. he bought flowers for granny in secret and she called him ‘naughty gramps’. he poked and showed us things on walks with his walking stick. he was ultra neat and organized. he was patient and told me where i had gone wrong in varnishing the photoframes. he only wore one signet ring on his little finger and always wore a sweater over his checkered shirts. i remember holding his hands on our walks. it was always so gentle. and how he would fall asleep in front of the tv and suddenly open his eyes when we all looked at him. the tea he always had with one teaspoon of honey. his ginger marmalade. how he didn’t like chocolate. haha.

and now? i don’t know. how do you keep memories and leave it at that? is that all? is that seriously all we can do?

the way he used to say hello on the phone. i remember it. it rings in my ears even now.

i wanted to be there. that’s all i wanted.