Me of Little Faith

The colour pink says that love just needs a witness, and a little forgiveness, and then? and then?

I have been dreading my birthday ever since the prospect was coming. On one hand I really want the opportunity to thank people who have been active in my life, who have been willing participants in the test project of Crisperiences. I also want to have fun and hang out with people in one room whom I would not normally meet in the same situations. I am curious to see how they interact, and to participate in that interaction. I am also expecting some show of love from those invited. On the other 'dreading' hand, I have raised my expectations of what will be, from presents, to speeches, to level of fun and laughter, very high, and paired that expectation with the prophecy of failure. I have pretty furtively been sabotaging my own opportunity for happiness by mentally projecting my negativity, and therefore my victim mentality, upon what I envision it will turn out like. So that then I can turn around afterward and told-me-so myself, and use the failure as justification for keeping a hidden sense of unhappiness, one that I tell myself in whispered terms that I deserve.

I began to realise this on the bus, talking to you. I was trying to defend my egotistic stance by twisting what I was saying, complicating it. I felt like I was being hunted - not necessarily by you, but by the truth that what I was saying was bullshit and weak. It was an inner hunt, a temporary chase and takeover.

I am very scared that I will not be grateful enough for the people that turn up to the party and those who put something towards making my night wonderful. I am terrified. So terrified, that I am envious whenever other people can be grateful and I feel I cannot honestly be. I feel I should be grateful and loving, and I know these are not thoughts I can muster up to equate what they really mean, but still I feel a pressure to live up to that standard. When I am grateful naturally, it comes beautifully - but gratitude cannot be planned and I think it will not come naturally when it is pressured by a situation such as in a birthday. I know you and those others whom I love have put in effort and are continuing to do so... I am aware that it is your love or something akin to love that contains glimpses of it that you pour into this putting-together... and I feel I can't live up to it. That is what scares me. I know you are giving, but I feel unprepared to receive, as if there is a cork that blocks me from really receiving love to my heart. Instead, that love is relegated to my head and it twists and turns and soon turns into dust, and over this ash I mourn. I am worried that I will take this love and turn it into ash. And I don't want to. I don't want to. I have done it so many times. You don't deserve your gifts to be thrown into the fire, but to be cherished. I want to cherish them, I do, and for that to happen, I need to uncork my heart, to learn one thing.

Forgiveness.

To truly overlook the mistakes of others, and so also to overlook my own.

The colour pink says that I'm learning to be brave in my beautiful mistakes.