Petty

I am guilty—guilty of being petty. I have been so caught up in my self-induced drama that I forgot the potential of crisis for a roommate and best friend. I neglected reason in favor of petty hopes and daydreams. I believed I was special to a man after two days of knowing him, embracing my own naïveté that it was mean, not that he is a genuinely nice guy. And I wept over my shortcomings while my roommate wept from betrayal. The man she believed was ultimately intent on commitment turned around and withdrew his implications in favor of temporary and instant gratifications.

Hearts are not to be trifled with. I regret and resent my own thoughts that even hint at, “I told you so,” or, “I warned you about this.” In the face of utter betrayal and devastation, my pride disappears behind me as I rush to hold the one I so deeply care about. Anger courses through my veins, blood-red, mixed in so intimately with sorrow that I struggle to differentiate them. The injustice dealt stemmed from a hurt as well. Pain breeds pain. My anger calls me to address this man, using my words to convict him.

I should have seen the warning signs more clearly. The tunnel vision on her, tolerating the presence of other roommates for sake of selfish interest. The hypocrisy between confessed beliefs and lifestyle. But all of this is useless. It has already happened.

I am caught between the belief that the heart is wicked—exemplified by this man—and protecting it and its innocence—displayed in my roommate. I can only see that both exist simultaneously, adding additional weights to the balance that is life. I come to You, knowing You can work this for good. My words are insufficient to ask what I long for.

“Likewise, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” ~ Romans 8:26

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