The Song of All Songs

I'm just a girl who loves; let me show you my world.

I Didn’t Love

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I was involved with a boy this summer. It was romantic, because he was only here for a little bit, and he pursued me, and I let him catch me for a moment. It was sweet, because he was, too. It was lovely, because we walked through the trees and down to the water, and he kissed me by the swings.

But I didn’t love him.

My friends were worried that I would be heartbroken when he left. They were worried that I would become involved in a way that would harm me. One of them sat me down and spoke to me about it openly, telling me to be careful, and that perhaps it would be wiser to cut things off, because the boy did so enjoy his loud music and alcohol when he was away from me.

I looked her in the eye and told her clearly that, despite this being my first true involvement with someone of the opposite sex, I wasn’t in over my head. She spoke of falling in love and how it hurt when they left; she warned me that non-Christians are perhaps not the wisest romantic choices for Christians.

Again, I stated very deliberately that I didn’t love him. And it was the truth.

Does that make me cold? I don’t know. I’ve been told before that that is what I am. Does that make me level and clear-headed? That description I can live with. Does it make me more  practical than romantic? This one seems to be a double-edged sword.

The conversation turned to focus on me, and my character rather than him and my romantic involvements. She was one of the first to approach me when I first went to my church rather than my mother’s. She was the first person to whom introduced myself as “Kat.” She was also the first to notice how I watch people.

Now, I know that this is the writer in me. Watching, observing, ever learning people’s reactions and mannerisms and hopes and fears and dreams. Categorizing their facial expressions, observing minute details in body language.

Izzy picked up on this.

She told me that in this case my analytical, logical mind seemed to be a blessing. But again, I’m a writer. I understand subtext. It was beneficial in this case. But she saw very clearly that it could, potentially, harm me and my relationships – with others, with myself. With God. She was telling me to be careful, not only with this boy, but with myself. If I can so easily not love my first kiss, what does this mean about other people in my life?

If I’m so easily capable of holding back my feelings and emotions to focus on those of others, how will I ever be able to completely give myself to God? My logical, analytical mind can’t even comprehend what that means, exactly.

Perhaps I need to focus on developing the illogical, emotional, romantic side of me before I can do this. Perhaps I need to follow the advice I read here:

And perhaps you should, too. Perhaps we can grow together. I hope, if you feel the need to do so, you will let me know, and we can support each other on this path.


Author: katmorrissette

I am just a girl who loves. Let me show you my world.

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