A Very Dark Spring and Religious Hypocrites II

Religion is a funny thing. Without it, you discover you're alone and any minute purpose in life is completely invalidated because there is no ending reward. With it, you have to follow strict and outdated rules, which within the norms of society, don't fit. All religious people "cherry pick from the bible", as you put it. It's true.


I begin this portion by stating what I have already said once. To an extent, I believe I would be happier with God in my life. If I had fallen into a devout radical religion, like my father's, I probably would still be a blind worshiping fool; however, I have lost my faith in a higher being. If there is a man sitting in the clouds above, he has long since turned his back on me and therefore, I don't give him any credit in existence.

I would rant and rave again about how I was a good devout christian girl. Steered clear of drugs, sex, and violence... but inevitably, it did not matter. But this isn't about me. It is, but not really. It's about you. Both of you.

I will state first names, to avoid any confusion, finger pointing, or hurt feelings for those who are not being targeted. Alex, and Anthony, are my sole quarries and these are those who I will speak about, while, yes, alluding to others as well. My family is very conservative, on both sides, and both sides are born into Christian households. Of course, they have differing Christian views (which probably didn't help my departure.) and sometimes this caused conflicts. Regardless, I was raised Christian, and BOY! Was I ever Christian. I carried a bible to school. I cried and wept for those who I knew died without being saved, (Timothy McVeigh) I prayed every night, before every meal, in public, in private, with friends, for friends... for STRANGERS! I swore, with my God, I could do anything.

Now, with every Christian view, comes more fights than are necessary. (YOU'RE CHRISTIANS!!!) It amazes me, to this day, how many Christians are quick to point judgmental fingers, "Oh, you're going to hell!", ridicule each other, or will turn their backs on their fellow men. Even after leaving my faith behind, I am still as caring as ever. I see a person crying, coddling their legs, I will reach out to them, hug them, tell them they're loved by someone and if they need an ear, shoulder, or anything, I am willing to help them to the best of my abilities. Both of you turned your backs on me in the most horrific way.

We'll just cut right into business now and begin with Pre-Marital Sex. A big sin, resembling adultry. (Regardless of your intentions.) To Christians, this sin is the most jaw dropping obvious, slap in the face, no no. I never wanted to lose my virginity in the way it was lost. I had vowed to myself, my body is sacred, and I won't allow anyone to enter unless I have devoted myself to them... I wanted to wait until marriage. I was naive, even though I was smart enough to know better, my heart wanted to believe those sweet deceitful words. I will not lie anymore... I regret things often. I live with my regret, using it to benefit me: knowledge, power, wisdom... Regrets are experiences learned. But sometimes these regrets do rise up and haunt me. This is one of those. I regretted it immediately, but there was no turning back. What had been done was done.

Now, from a scientific point of view, virginity is nothing more than religious jargon utilized in scaring prepubescent Christian girls into avoiding men and sheathing them in ignorance. The hymen is easily broken and often times is broken before the penis ever enters the vagina. I just thought everyone should know that. Your virginity can be stolen from you by WALKING, EXERCISING! Doing daily activities...

But still, there is a dawning moment once you have sex for the first time. I think for most people NOT in my shoes, it is mediocre to amazing... but not horrific. For many, it's an achievement, a goal reached and realized, for some, it's a meh experience where neither party reaches climax, but nothing went horribly wrong. For others, it's romantic, it's pure love, it's ecstasy. Not something to look back on and bow your head in shame and bitter anger. It was un-pleasurable. It hurt. He was apathetic to my hesitations, concerns, and reserves. He didn't listen to what I wanted and needed... I felt unloved, uncared for, and in the end hated myself for giving my devotion to this piece of... scum. (I would much rather utilize another four letter S word... but my father believes I swear too much in these blogs.)

We'll start there, Alex: you seemed to think I glorified my premarital sex. You often times brought it up and shoved it in my face. Using it against me in every argument, in every stance... Telling me I was doomed to an eternity of hell, no matter how I repented. No matter how I tried to make it up... I had already regretted the decision to open my legs to this man, and now I was going to hell forever because he had convinced me we would marry so it wouldn't matter. But of course, we would never marry. I was left with broken promises and a stolen virginity... a hideous reminder of the biggest mistake I ever made. And no matter how many times I cried, no matter how much I prayed for forgiveness, you wouldn't let it go. You used it against me every chance you got.

In the end, you broke up with me because I wasn't a virgin and you were.

The only thing my father had to say about this... was you were right. I was so scorned. I couldn't shower enough, I couldn't cry enough, purge enough... nothing would empty my body of the disgusting reminder.

Now, let's move to Anthony. You, my friend, called me a prude. I *was* a prude. I was naive, I was scared of sex. Scared of being hurt, and letting someone into my heart. You made me feel like I should be ashamed for being sexually inactive. I worked so hard to gain your attention, and I was met with that.

I thought I could impress you. If I could be sexy, like the loose girls you tended to chase, perhaps you would look my way and find me attractive or worthy. We never spoke directly about sex aside from these moments when you called me a prude; however, you were a hypocrite from the start. You were a virgin too! I was so stupid to think you weren't. I lost my virginity before you. I just wonder if yours was half as bad.

Somewhere along the line, you became religious too. You repented and made up for your pre marital sins... but for some reason I was still incapable of doing this, in your eyes. No matter how many times I swore off sex until marriage and prayed and asked for grace, I was still doomed to hell. The joke became, "------ can have butt-sex and still be saved. But the rest of us are going to hell." You pious...

You fluctuated though. I could tell your religion was insincere, right away. It was alarming. When I was at my most religious, I never thought to be so judgmental. I never would have told someone they were going to hell, and I was most certainly never a hypocrite. If I knew I didn't want others to be doing it, and I knew I shouldn't be doing it, I wouldn't. I was never going to be caught dead doing something, just to turn around and say, "Hey! You can't do that!" It gets better though.

On both accounts. :)

With Alex, I thought he had a point. He was right. My dad thought so. God thought so... and deep in my heart I knew so. Anthony, though... was wrong. He continued with sex, and would go and ask for immediate forgiveness, promising to swear off sex until marriage... yet never stopped. I don't know how many times you broke a promise to God. I don't know about you, but seriously, I would be terrified to break a promise to the big white robed man upstairs. That just seems like a hugely bad idea. Even now, I can't imagine doing something so bold and dangerous. That's like asking for a freight train ticket on the next boarding straight to hell.

I kept one thing, though. I never had loose, scandalous sex with just anyone. No one night stands, no three-somes, no polygamous deviations... What I did in bed with the man I loved and devoted myself to, was my choice and his... His body belonged to me and mine to him... That's how it works with sex. You don't sex every moving thing, every woman you have interest in, etc...

Men are men, though. Aren't they? When you first told me you weren't a virgin anymore, I was shocked. I really had no idea how to reply. Then, I will admit, I laughed. You poor sorry soul, I said. You've doomed yourself to hell- your own words, remember? Oh Alex... I asked you then, "So, are you not religious anymore?" and your reply... to be frank, it pissed me off. I lost every ounce of respect I had ever held for you. "Of course I am." ARE YOU SERIOUS!? How can you be?! And you had the nerve to blow off sex like it was no big deal.

You. Are. A. Hypocrite. Thank you for the months of torturing reminders I wasn't good enough for you or God. Thank you for making me feel smaller than even Ryan had. At least you never said I was going to hell. Thank you for being a Christian.

Oh, and for the record, you're probably going to hell. :) If hell exists, that is.

Now, let's return to Anthony. Ahh Anthony. I gave myself to you. I thought you would carry me from my dark place. Rescue me on a bright steed... You told me you loved me and wanted to marry me. You made me believe you, just the same as Ryan. And the day after, the very next day, after I had loved you for FOUR years, waited for you to stop dating whores and come sweep me off my feet, the very next day after you finally give me everything I ever wanted from you, you tell me you were leading me on and immediately I found you in a relationship with someone my sister's age who had a newborn baby. And then it started again. I was going to hell for having premarital sex... You were living with a young teenager, who had a child, and slept in your bed with you... and you tell me I'm going to hell, AGAIN?!

You... You are probably the biggest most infuriating hypocrite I know.

The Golden Rule is to treat others how you would like to be treated and I believe Jesus said himself, "Those without sin, may cast the first stone..."

"Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measure to you again...

Thou hypocrite, cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye."

A Very Dark Spring and Religious Hypocrites

Pulling into the small parking lot, floods of memories came rushing back to me all at once. I had been here many times before, and each time had varying emotions linked to the nostalgia that came with it. I grimaced and fumbled through my bag for the notebook and pen he had given me. Pulling these out, I exited the car and found my usual place in the swing facing the street. Opening the notebook, my fingers thumbed through the discarded stories and ideas, as I searched for a blank page.

Here, I began this...

Two years ago seems like a long time when deep in reflective thought. Even then, I knew we would not last. Yes, being here was fun, we had a lot of good times, but overall, you were not the one. Regardless of knowing this, I stuck around anyway. My paranoia in our relationship began pretty early. In my own mind, this should have been the biggest red-flag. They always say a woman's intuition is right, to go with your gut feeling, trust your instincts, etc... but I over thought the situation and decided I was just being paranoid.

True, but not true. I am a paranoid individual, but by every right. Or maybe I'm not paranoid at all, I just have a sixth sense for humans. Either of these could be accurate, or they could both be accurate, but all that remains now is why am I here?

I said my goodbyes to this place two months ago. I thought it would be easier to leave all of this behind... but it really isn't. I have a lot of bitter resentment towards you, towards myself... and the whole debacle. I will be heading to your place soon, to pick up the rest of my belongings. My stomach is churning and my heart is racing.

The drive here brought back so many memories. When laying them out on paper, I realized very quickly, most of those memories were bad. I was alone, and depressed. Often, I found myself wandering the streets aimlessly, wondering if you would come looking for me or if you would pay no mind to my erratic behavior. You never did look for me. Many of those times, I made my way to this park, and would sit on the same swing, waiting for you until it was too late and too cold to sit any longer. I thought of it as our place, but I didn't realize you never wanted to share anything with me.

That spring I should have been happy. I was with a man who I thought loved me exclusively. No, I lie... I never thought you loved me exclusively. I wanted you to. I wanted to be your one and only. I wanted you to put me on a pedestal, as you said you tended to do in relationships, but deep in my mind I worried you would leave me. You would find someone better or just become bored with me and then you would leave me. I know you looked at other women. You didn't really try very hard to hide it... I was insecure and you did nothing to reassert my position or my value to you.

It wasn't just that spring though. It was always. Every day, every season, every hour of my life. I worried about you. Who you were talking to, why you were being so distant and cold... Why I couldn't count on you for anything, but money. I shudder to think I sank so low in my life... to become blinded by success. I wanted you to pull me up and out of the mud, you only pushed me further. I didn't let myself become blinded though... It was masochistic. I couldn't trust you for anything.

Spring, my favorite season. The light at the end of a long dismal winter-filled tunnel... but that spring was a dark one. I found no strength to pull me from bed each morning and inevitably found myself falling deeper and deeper into a dark gray cloud. Spring turned to Summer and things worsened for me. I thought you were going to dump me because I asked if you still loved your ex. Eventually, you decided to forgive me for your actions and asked me to move in. I did, that fall... and again, things only became harder and I fell deeper. Your over-reactions to everything... you always had to be right.

Winter came again. I knew I would drown, because of my SAD, but you wouldn't listen or understand. You never comforted me. Despite struggling to stay afloat with my own depression in tow, I took on yours too. I tried everything, every damn thing, in my power to make you feel cared about, loved, happy... any positive emotion. Any flitting gleam of hope, just so you would know not all things are bad. You took it for granted, using what I had to offer to get ahead, and shoved me deep in the mud.

I guess it doesn't matter anymore, honestly.

It didn't take him long to pull me out and brush me off. I guess my head is glued on tighter than I thought, and I didn't really ever lose my senses. I'm less bitter than I was, but when I sit down and think about everything, those feelings of resentment seem to still course my veins, making me grow cold and angry. I try to be forgiving. I try to move on...

You did one thing though. You made me realize how hypocritical I am. Thank you.

See PART II

Ugly Duckling

I guess, for once, I want to be the preferred person.

Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
~Robert Frost
Men of fire, burn with desire
Men of ice, are nothing nice.
You are cold, hard, and blue
I prefer a man of a more ember hue.
Enjoy the loss you cheap tease
because I'm fairly easy to please.
Words that are empty only go so far
They will leave wounds that heal and scar.
Remember this, you arrogant prick
I am the iciest, flame-ridden chick.
~Jessica Tracy

Insanity

I'm writing to vent. I'm livid. Today started out pretty damn rotten!

I woke up and readied myself, as I would do on any other weekday. Being a Tuesday, I knew I would have three classes: Math, French, and Aerobics. After class, today, I was going to bathe and prepare myself for a job interview.

Needless to say, none of that is important. What *is* pertinent for this blog is how pitiful I feel. 30 minutes before Math, like any other day, I went out to the car and started it... Alas, the POJ did not start, did not turn over, did nothing. I turned the key again, thinking perhaps I just didn't turn it far enough. Silence.

Horror crept itself over me, as I realized the car was not starting. I turned the key again and again, violently. Still, no amiable outcome.

I threw my head back, inhaled deeply, and snapped my eyes shut: tightly. For a moment, I focused all of my thoughts on my eyelids, and used my years of anger training to fight back the boiling seething scream as it inched towards my throat. No, I did not scream. I did not cuss. I just focused on breathing, like a normal human being.

In the end, I stomped back into the house and fought the angry tears back. Eventually, I vented to a few people...

I did not go to class. I would not have gone to my interview, but Ian is saving me. I do not know how I will go to class tomorrow... or work, if I get the job. I feel trapped and unhappy.

Anyway, that is all.