February 17, 2008
Patience is a virtue….that I never got right. I am all about the instant-gratification.
My mom once said that she wanted her girls to have boyfriends because it would help us learn how to be patient, understanding, and unselfish. It made alot of sense. Aside from taking an interest in strange new hobbies, tv shows, or sports teams, the development of patience, empathy, and selflessness were the kind of lessons best taught through a boyfriend.
I know that my boyfriend tries hard to make me happy, but the unfortunate circumstances regularly get in the way.
I know that relationships have ups and downs, but sometimes I worry that I’m trying too hard to make something out of nothing.
The past few weeks of our relationship, my thresholds of patience, understanding, and self-sacrifice have expanded to levels I never thought possible. I feared my depleted stores of patience and understanding would become resentment towards him, something I felt would be unnecessary and avoidable if I jumped ship soon. Everyday from December to February 16th, I feared this “Breaking Point” would erupt with resentment.
Yesterday morning, I woke up and realized that there is no such thing as a Breaking Point. Rock bottom does not exist. The universe was not designed to break us. Everything in life is designed to push us farther than we limit ourselves to. What I perceived as a Breaking Point is only a Changing Point. I will not break. I will merely change my course. Without regard for what the world throws at me, I will decide for myself to change directions in my life. For weeks, I have been embarrassed by my confusion, “should I stay or should I leave him?” I decided I cared about him too much, and would just wait and see. I figured that my struggling patience and understanding would just give way and no longer be able to cushion my heart from the pain. I acknowledge pain to be a defense mechanism, warning our bodies away from situations that will harm or simply hold us back from our true potential. For weeks I resigned myself to wait for the moment that it would hurt too much to be with him. Waiting for a physical reaction to overcome a mental and emotional desire, like pulling my bleeding hand away from a sharp but gorgeous shard of glass.