Confession: The Ending of All Endings: An Introduction Vol: 1

Because this confession, is deemed to be lengthy, it will be broken down into parts, to include each detail necessary to convey the intended point.

As we’ve discussed in the past, there was this love affair, I’d grown rather acquainted with. It all began in 2008; I wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t want it. Yet, it caught me by surprised, gripped my soul, and held on for dear life.

We all know that feeling of fresh love. “Butterflies in the stomach,” “A Spark,” the feeling of “It’s right.” “He’s the one!” “I just knew,” all the cliché’s that depict the beginning of something spectacular. Well, I can’t say that I felt that initially in this case. I was more reluctant because of the rumors circulating around town. I was afraid to cross over into that arena of life. But something about it, took hold of my apprehensions and pulled me in. It honestly took about a year to get to the actual notion of love, but how much time passed getting there was nothing in comparison to how long it’s taken me to arrive at this destination.

It was new, it was fresh, I didn’t understand it, but welcomingly I allowed it to enter into my territory. I believe, when I gave myself over to it, I did so without reserve. I was so to speak, recklessly loving someone who seemed to express his love, but couldn’t exude or radiate the love I felt, back in translation to me.

I remember the first time I considered the notion of love, I was sitting in my dorm. We hadn’t spoken in months. It was my freshman year of college, I was out on my own, and I had no idea how I would survive. All I knew was, he was all I could think of. I yearned to reach out to him, but each time I hesitated. I couldn’t believe someone as broken as I was, could harness the sentiment. I didn’t believe it was real, but I felt it deep within my soul. It wasn’t butterflies, I didn’t just know, and there was no spark. All that laid in wake for me, was a deep compassion and need to nurture. There was a strong desire to understand and build; and I definitely couldn’t grasp what any of it meant.

It was sometime in maybe September of year 2010, when I first verbalized my truest feelings. Throughout that entire time, my will had been tested. I’d seen just about every bad thing I could possibly think of, whilst I was attempting to be overcome with love. Those feelings I possessed took my breath away whenever I though of him, and there in that space I wanted to remain. There, engulfed in the proclamation that I had found love, no matter what it looked like; I’d found it and would not let it go.

Confession: Hypocrisy

A little while ago, I wrote about walking a mile in another’s shoes, and just recently I’ve had the unwanted pleasure of doing so (from a variety of perspectives). The most recent, when it comes to emotional distress, is what I’ll discuss within this post.

Lately I’ve experienced first hand, how it feels to be frustrated with others, their advice/reprimands, and learning how to accept correction/constructive criticism. About a few years ago, maybe 3,  a friend of mine (we’ll call her Tabitha), was having a difficult time in life. Throughout this time, she decided to confide in a mutual friend of ours (Celeste) and seek help. Yet, shortly after our mutual friend became acquainted with Tabitha’s misgivings and frustrations, Celeste without hesitation did what most do. She offered not just her opinion, but also her judgments, criticisms, and overbearing advice. You know, the kind of advice that not only offers wisdom, but implies that your actions should resemble the same ones the advice giver had taken. Although her intentions were well and genuine, her delivery and lack of discernment made it that much more difficult for Tabitha to receive.

As time went on, Celeste continued on with her mindless bantering. So much so, that it began to weigh down on Tabitha. Eventually Tabitha began avoiding Celeste’s phone calls, foregoing opportunities to hang with her, and many other things. It wasn’t that Tabitha was unappreciative, but she confided in me that she just felt as if her efforts weren’t good enough. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t making any efforts to better her situation; she just wasn’t making them quick enough (in her opinion) for Celeste.

“It’s like she never sees the fact that I’m actually trying. Nor does she see the progress I’ve made so far. Everything with her, just has to be her way or no way; and it’s not even her life’s decisions. I’ve even gotten to the point to where I don’t even ask her for advice. If something is bothering me, I either talk to someone else or no one at all. Crazy, huh, how your very friends can make you feel hopeless.” Tabitha exclaimed.

As I sat and listened, I felt dismayed. But I felt, she needed more than anything to just vent, and get what she was feeling off her chest; so that was all I did. I listened. Later, much-much later, Tabitha told me, that was all she needed that day; and I was content.

Often times we as people, because we either can’t relate, want to help but don’t necessarily know how, or don’t sympathize well, spew off comments on others, give our perspectives, or rant off on how we would have or did handle specific situations. We respond without understanding. We speak before our time. We sometimes just say things to say them instead of simply being comfortable with having nothing to say. We’re all guilty of it, myself definitely included. Even if you think to yourself, “this isn’t my experience,” I can guarantee if you speak with each of those individuals you engage with, at least one of them will confirm this narrative.

It’s quite rare that before offering advice, when situations arise, in which we have prior experience, knowledge of, or strong emotions towards, that we stop to consider the following:

1. Who did we confide in and what their initial reactions were?
2. What advice did that/those individual(s) give, if any?
3. Was the advice practical, good, necessary, wanted, and unbiased?
4. What approach was taken and how’d it make us feel?
5. Was it easily and well received?
6. Was I able to apply that advice to my circumstance and if so how’d it work out?
7. Lastly, presenting this information to others, all questions above considered, how can I better relay said wisdom to another in a manner that will be beneficial?

It is a known fact, that most advise comes from another’s prior encounters. Whether those encounters are that person’s own experience or if he/she learned as someone else experienced it. Naturally, once we experience trials and tribulations in life, and we see those closest to us going through the same or something similar, we readily offer our assistance. BUUUUUTTTT, rarely do we actually stop to consider just how different each individual is and that not all methods will work for each person the exact same.

Am I saying there’s something wrong with sharing wisdom? Am I saying that we should stop offering help? Is giving advice really that bad?

ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!

From a spiritual standpoint, we are encouraged by God, himself to go out and help others. We are encouraged to confide in one another. However, the issue that arises more than most realize is the methods in which this is carried out. As mentors, friends, sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, mothers, fathers, leaders, and associates we must seek to understand people individually. There’s nothing wrong with sharing your experience and the steps you took to overcome those difficulties. There’s nothing wrong with suggesting such advice to others; but it is always important to be very mindful of how we seek to help. Be vigilant in protecting the hearts of those we love. Be a place of refuge, here on earth.

Always reflect on your previous experiences, and those instances made you feel. Be open, be honest, listen, discern what is needed, and execute appropriately for that particular situation. Nothing more, nothing less. Who knows, sometimes you may just need to be still……. Silence is just as important as anything and can be as comforting as the wisest of words.

I leave you with these words from the book of Job. In these times, there was a time for comfort, a time for empathy, and a time for silence. Remain humble, and be the light in which you seek…….

“11 Now when Job’s three friends heard of all this evil that was come upon him, they came every one from his own place; Eliphaz the Temanite, and Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite: for they had made an appointment together to come to mourn with him and to comfort him. 12 And when they lifted up their eyes afar off, and knew him not, they lifted up their voice, and wept; and they rent every one his mantle, and sprinkled dust upon their heads toward heaven. 13 So they sat down with him upon the ground seven days and seven nights, and none spake a word unto him: for they saw that his grief was very great. ” – Job 2: 11 -13.

Confession:

A few years ago, I met Chris. He was such a sweet and kind person, and I was honored to meet such a new friend. Quite honestly, I thought a new friend, apart from my other friends, was well deserved, considering the year I’d been having. I thought to myself, “something new, fresh,” and as I took a deep breathe, “Someone I can be just friends with, who’d only view me as a friend, because without me saying it, he understood MY STANDARD.”  Boy was I ever wrong!!!

One night, I can’t really remember what it was for, but I was studying. I’d left The Valley, and was on my way to the computer lab. Studying was my intention, but when I saw him, sitting there, I’d say, studying was the furthest thing from my mind. Everyone had left, and it was only him and I; ALONE. We sat and talked for hours, cracked jokes, and even threw a few punches, sarcastic ones. I believe we both forgot we were supposed to be doing work, when we talked. Then he asked, “What are you about to do?” and I replied, “Head to the Valley and study a bit more, I have a test tomorrow.” He replied back, “Yeah, I think I’m about to head back over there and study some more also.” Before I knew it, I’d invited him to walk over with me, but I had to make a quick stop to my dorm first, and of course he had to come along. The entire elevator ride, the long walk through the hallway, and even inside my room we talked endlessly. Yet, not for a moment did I believe I’d like him. I only saw friendship.

I’d say it was around 12:00 am, when we arrived to the valley. We talked, laughed, joked, and studied until 5:00 a.m. that morning, until I felt it was time that I depart. Still, that night hadn’t ended until Chris and I hugged one another goodbye on the ride down to the first floor of the Valley. This hug was different though. Normally, when I hug a guy, you know, I’d give him a side hug that lasted a mere .9 tenths of a second, but this time was different. I still hugged him side-ways, however instead of one arm, I wrapped both my arms around him, squeezed, and inhaled the scent of his cologne. He may not have noticed, but as he squeezed my body, I looked up in awe, in a state of intrigue because for the first time in three years, I’d been this close to another guy, whom I hadn’t assumed to be my “brother in Christ,” and I can honestly say, it felt nice.

On my way home, although all of that happened, not once did I consider nor think of the recent events that occurred until a friend made the slight statement “You’d guys make a cute couple!” As he walked by and I was sitting and keeping her company at work. She claimed the way we interacted with one another, was “cute,” whatever that meant.

Initially I didn’t give in and my response was, “girl please! Why’d you say such a thing?” I just had to know, my curiosity had been sparked, and at that moment a fictional relationship between the two of us was created. Her final response was in the lines of the way we looked at each other. She said we’d smile and laugh with one another, and she just knew there was something more there. HOGWASH, right? Well, it could have been, but as I’ve told two of my accountability partners in this ordeal, as my friend planted the seed of there being something more to Chris and I’s relationship, I’d taken the watering can and watered that seed. I also took the plow from the shed and began to break the soil so the seed would have the proper room it needed to break from beneath the surface.

“I wonder, what it’d be like?” was the very first thought that ran across my mind, as I was walking back to my dorm, although certainly not the last. Over the course of days that passed, I’d already began to wonder about how we’d meet up just to talk. I rationalized how I could be with this guy, even though I clearly understood he wasn’t God’s best for me. He was a good guy, but not a God guy. Now don’t misunderstand me in this. I’m not saying there is something wrong with dating a guy, but I am saying there is something wrong with settling for a guy that’s just good enough, knowing the standard God has set before you and confirmation He’s given on such a matter. My no had been clear from God, but I believed I could make it a yes, if I was just good enough and did all the right things. But were they really the right choices for me to make in this instance? My answer would be yes!!! I say that because without choosing such paths I wouldn’t be fully equipped to handle whatever may be coming my way. Did I have to make those choices, definitely not, I could have avoided this whole ordeal, having I’d listened to God’s voice, but His Grace kept me, and used everything for my benefit.

As consequence to my choices, I found myself sinking deeper and deeper into this pit of quick sand; and quickly I might add. I remember watching for him. I would wonder where he was, and how his day was going. Sometimes I’d even put myself in predicaments, ensuring the probability that I’d run into him, “coincidently” would rise. I remember this one instance where, we’d both left the Café, both heading in opposite directions, yet “somehow” we ended up meeting along the pathway. (As if I hadn’t known, just how that “somehow” occurred). As he reached to hug me, I drank in the sweet and savory scent of his cologne. The feeling felt almost to be good to be true. Then as we let go of each other, our hands seemingly met together in the middle. Honestly, I hadn’t caused it to happen, but I was more than happy it had. But, in an attempt to remain “unattached” I quickly withdrew my hand, knowing all the while, I’d hoped it’d last for just a little while longer. For a brief moment we talked, as we stood there, but for the rest of the day I’d been drawn away to all the beautiful possibilities swarming my mind. Could I have stopped myself at that moment? Yes, but the true question wasn’t that, it was, DID I WANT TO? Absolutely not, therefore I didn’t.

Among the many times and all the crazy encounters we’ve had, the one that sits so deeply is the night, him, a friend of mine, and myself were all sitting in the Valley conversing. We all started off in our own individual seats, but by the end of the night he’d found a way to be sitting right beside me. For weeks, I’d been wrapped up into this fantasy of an “Us” but this particular night was different. I say that because, as we all laughed uncontrollably at one another’s jokes and comic videos, I felt myself withdrawing. Him and I were sitting on the floor as we watched videos, and I could literally see him inching closer and closer to me. You’d think I’d be thrilled, maybe he was showing interest, who knows; but I became uncomfortable. I could literally feel myself battling between what was right and what I wanted. I wanted everything within me to sit beside him, for him to lay his head on my lap, to run my fingers through his hair, but every time he got closer, I moved further apart. It seemed as though he’d move 2 inches in, and felt as though I was moving 10 feet out. Although, that seems like a mighty big exaggeration, it’s what I felt, and I couldn’t understand why.

Day after day, we’d play these little silly games, but the final two straws had to have been, when I noticed my change in behavior and my change in attitude. I was at work, sitting in my boss’s office, doing everything but working, when Chris stopped by. The printer was out of paper, and he’d been trying to print some work. Initially, we just give the residents the paper to refill the machine and continue working; not this time. I wanted to talk, so I walked with him, into the computer lab, refilled the paper, and then I left. Weirdly, one of my supervisors, Jarred, was coming down the hallway, and stopped me to give me some random updates. That’s when Chris came from the computer lab. He wanted to exit through the door I was standing in, and for some reason, I positioned myself to block his path. “Excuse me!” He said, and I pretended not to hear. “Em, excuse me!” He said it again, but this time, with a little more sternness. Yet and still I refused to move. What was I thinking? Before, I got the chance to turn around, I felt his hand grazing my lower back, and following were both feelings of excitement and fear. Quite frankly, all I wanted was for him to wrap both his arms around me and hold me, but somewhere, I’d known it’d all been a big mistake. Seriously, what was I thinking? Had I gone too far? When he finally decided to gently move me out of the way, reality set in, and I remembered I was standing before Jarred, as he starred with intrigue. Almost immediately, I began to rationalize what he’d just witnessed, because single “Christian” girls didn’t behave in such manners. I down played my emotions, to make it seem as if it was nothing as it seemed, although it was. I was flirting, and not subconsciously this time. I was in complete control; I knew exactly what I was doing.

I wanted this to work. It was so refreshing. Then there were times I desired everything to end. It effected every part of me. My emotions were involved. There’d even been occasions where I’d decided, “If God doesn’t want it for me, I’ll do it and ask for forgiveness. He has to forgive me, right?” Other days, I was emotionally, mentally, and spiritually drained. “What about how God feels? Have you ever stopped to consider His feelings?” I was torn, and though God seemed like the easier choice, it’s not always that simple. As I stated earlier, it seemed like, with every encounter with Chris, he’d get closer and closer to my heart, and as he got closer, I drew away 10 feet. In the beginning, I couldn’t understand that feeling to save my life, but now I understand it more than ever. It wasn’t that I was withdrawing from Chris, when I felt this way, it was this simple truth, I was withdrawing from GOD!!

“Whoa, backup, how did this happen?” With every thought, engagement, and every action being transmitted between Chris and I, there went another engagement I was lacking. My communication with Christ began to decline faster, and faster, and faster. I’d made my choice, but it wasn’t the choice I wanted to make. Although I never said it, my actions portrayed otherwise, I’d lost sight of my first love in exchange for an uncertain one. It wasn’t that, God doesn’t desire those things for me, that i desire for myself. It was the idea that my “thoughts,” because that’s all there was, consumed so much of my time. It was clear something was going on, mentally for the both of us, but apart from just random flirting and study/hang out sessions, we hadn’t established anything. I was given over to an idea. It was nice. It was different. It was real without the crazy confinements and restraints. More importantly, it was just ours. No one knew it existed between us, and quite frankly neither did we because we hadn’t blatantly said that there was something. The truth of the matter was that I’d/we’d been living a fantasy.

Again, I repeat there is absolutely nothing wrong, in my perspective, in pursuing a relationship with someone you’re compatible with spiritually or naturally. I find no fault in the act or desire of wanting to seek or obtain companionship from another. In fact, it’s something I still deeply desire to possess one day. However, there does come a time in each of our lives, where we need to evaluate those things in which we seek to fulfill us. We have to rightly divide what’s of reality and what is not. We have to be in a position to listen to our subconscious when it tries to warn us of those little “flags” before we get in too deep. It’s perfectly fine and completely normal for a human’s personal and social experiences to affect them, how they now view things, and how the interact on a daily basis. Yet, it is also imperative to discern how those changes and effects are altering us both positively and negatively.

It is important to grow from every situation life gives to us, but it is just as important to realize what situations yield no growth. There are things, people, and places that we encounter in life that are like dead zones. There’s no life within them and they have little to nothing to offer. Most times, from my personal experience, those dead zones in my life, served as a humbling process. Because there was nothing of any value or true substance there, it stripped me of all my pride, what I believed to be true, and brought me to a place of complete desolation. I often times had nothing, no one, and didn’t have the slightest clue as to how to escape. Yet, the moment I was free; the very instance I began to see life, surrounding me once more, I was able to understand more. I appreciated things a great deal more. I was better having made it through, and most emphatically I was changed.

My advice to you, where relationships, potential somethings, and simple crushes are concerned is to “Know the difference between what’s real and what’s fantasy.” Don’t allow yourself to become so entangled in the possibilities of those new and exciting encounters. Don’t blind yourself from what’s going on around you. Open your eyes and see. Seek to always be aware. Get out of your emotions for just a moment and think. Find the truth in all matters, even if it hurts. Recognize those dead end/dead zones when it comes to potential “companions” and allow it to teach you as it will, but just as soon as your escape has been made known to you, EXIT. Don’t stay too long in a place that can provide you nothing. It may feel good now and even as some significant amount of time has passed but trust me; when it is all said and done, it may hurt just a bit more. Last but not least, don’t lose sight of your first love for an uncertain one. If you can’t enjoy those simple truths about yourself with the one you think you love, and feel comfortable in doing so, then question your position there.

Source: Locked In and Loaded

Source: Sleeping on Duty

Confession:

It was a cool day, early February when I met him. He was 6’3, had smooth caramel skin, beautiful pearly white teeth, and an accent that would drive any young girl mad. Aesthetically speaking, he embodied everything I looked for in a man. When I describe him to my friends I call him, “The TV Guy!” I’m sure any of you can relate. You know, on television, you always see these men and women that are indescribably gorgeous. I coined the phrase, “God really took his time on that one,” because the level of outward beauty these individuals possess is insane to me. However, it’s not often that you meet these individuals in your day to day life. Occasionally there maybe one or two spotted, but most times they either are in a relationship, married, or prefer the same sex.

Anyhow, when I first saw him I was stunned. I think I literally stopped in my tracks, just to admire his features. Then it happened. We exchanged formal hellos. He was sweet and gentle, but still very strong. Being honest I kind of fumbled over my words trying to hold a cordial conversation. I think he noticed because, he’d just smile and finish my sentence occasionally; which seemed so “cute” at the time. As we talked, I learned so much about him. His name was Moises. He was in the Navy, and was stationed very close to where I was living. I’d just recently moved to the area, and thought I could use a friend or two. I knew no one, so when he offered to show me around the city; I obliged readily. The first day we were alone together, he and I just rode around town talking endlessly. It was interesting and refreshing. He was very respectful. He asked my age, and when I responded, I followed inquiring of his age. He looked worried.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, and quietly he exclaimed to me;

“You’re very attractive, and when I first saw you, I knew I just had to meet you. I was headed somewhere, but changed my mind, so I could have the chance to introduce myself.”

Quietly I listened, slightly joyful on the inside. He’d said all the right things, but curiosity panged me. What could his expression have meant?

Flattered I smiled and replied “Well I’m glad you cancelled your plans to meet me. I appreciate the gesture. But that doesn’t really explain your expression. Is everything alright?”

“Yes everything is fine, I’m just hoping I’m not to old for you; there’s a bit of an age difference between the two of us, and I hope that it wouldn’t be a problem for you.”

“How old are you?”

“33!! Is that to much for you?”

At the time, I was 23 and in a matter of weeks, would be 24. Hearing his age, didn’t change anything for me however. It didn’t make me cringe, sad, or overjoyed. To me, it was another piece of information I’d mentally filed away, in the box marked Moises.

“Honestly, I don’t see a problem with your age, if you don’t find fault in mine.” I responded, searching his face and posture for clues.

“Okay, great!.”

I laughed, because I knew he didn’t know what else to say to me, so we rode in silence for what seemed to be the longest two minutes of my life. Occasionally, I’d notice him looking at me from his peripheral vision. “So how long have you been living here in Florida?” I asked, desperately trying to break that awkward silence.

“7 months”

“Where were you before here?”

“Originally I’m from the Dominican Republic. When I first came to the U.S. I lived in Miami for a couple of years, then I moved to Orlando. Just recently, I moved from New York, here with the Military.”

“So you’ve just pretty much been all over.”

We talked for an hour or two, and then he and I both, were ready to go home. Funny how, we both began to wrap the night up at the same time. I was tired and had been at the hospital all day working; so had he. As we pulled up to my apartment complex, we sat for an additional thirty minutes, talking, and as I got out of the car, he bid me goodnight and left.

I couldn’t wait to tell Kelly, my roommate all about the guy I’d met, and just how great it was to talk with him. We both laughed as she asked me, all the exciting questions, friends ask one another about potential “somethings.”

A few days went by, and we’d texted sporadically throughout each day. We texted occasionally and I saw him, maybe one or two times before he actually asked me out. Then one Tuesday, I’d taken off at the hospital, I received a text:

“Where are you?”

“My apartment! Why, what’s up?”

“I’m close by. Get dressed, I’ll be there in a few.”

“Oh okay! What is a few? Like 30 minutes, or less.”

“Less, I’m outside.”

“Wait, what? Give me a second.”

I looked out the window, and he was definitely outside. Honestly, I’m not sure if I was more creeped out or excited. Spontaneity has always been a plus, when it came to relationships for me, but was it a little to soon to be popping up out of the blue, was my biggest question. Nonetheless, I put on some jeans, a crop top, my Nike’s and headed out.

“Hey beautiful, I hope I didn’t keep you away from something.”

“No, just watching movies in bed.”

“Great, I wanted to see you. You cancelled on me the other day.”

“Yeah, I was tired and had a couple of test to take.”

“Tests? What kind of tests?”

“I’m in school. When you saw me at the hospital, although I work there, I’m working as a student. I have to complete my rotations here in order to get my degree.”

“Are you a Nurse?”

“No, a Medical Laboratory Scientist.”

“What’s that?”

“Basically, a lab rat. I spend my days in a lab, running test on patient specimens etc.”

“Oh okay, I get it. That’s great, congratulations. Beautiful, smart, I really like that. You seem like a very mature woman for your age.”

“I’ve heard that once or twice.”

“Okay, so tell me more about yourself.”

The more time passed, the more we learned about each other that day. My face was trembling from all the laughing, smiling, and blushing I was doing. That day, Moises and I didn’t do much of anything but talk. It was refreshing to just enjoying his company. I was very excited, and thought to myself, “what a relief!”  I didn’t anticipate however, it all would come crashing down so soon.

Towards the end of the evening, I noticed Moises staring at me. It was awkward, just sitting there with someone staring at me. We sat quietly. Moments passed, and Moises released a deep sigh of frustration.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have something I want to tell you, but I’ll tell  you next time.”

“Why won’t you tell me now?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

I was curious. More curious than I wanted him to know, but still very curious. My mind raced at all the possible things he could tell me. It puzzled me so much because of the expression that was written across his face. We hadn’t known each other to long, so what could weigh so heavily upon him, that he couldn’t tell me? Nonetheless, as he expressed his desire to talk to me about it at another time, I obliged. I decided not to push the issue. I didn’t want to seem pushy or impatient. I seriously wanted to impress him. So, I sat quietly for a second, gathered my thoughts, then replied;

“If you don’t feel comfortable telling me, then don’t. I’m okay with waiting  until you feel comfortable.”

“Ughhhh, I think you’re a very beautiful young woman. You’re smart, kind, and sweet. You’re different. I don’t know how to explain it, but you are. You’re happy. When I look at you, I just see happiness and it’s weird, but I like it. I want to be your friend, take you out, show you around, if that’s okay with you.”

I propped my face upon my hand and starred into his eyes. Something didn’t seem so right anymore, and I was curious why. It appeared that he was genuine about getting to know me, and becoming my friend, but the hint of restraint I sensed in his tone, suggested something else. I just didn’t know what that something was.

“You’re beautiful, and I don’t want to lie to you. Ughh, Jesus Christ.”

At this point, I was really beginning to worry. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would end up like those women who, went off somewhere and never came back. As I looked over at him, there he sat, beside me, his head resting on the seat, pointing towards the ceiling with his eyes closed. He looked uneasy and uncomfortable. But again I sat quietly. I concluded, whatever it was, I would be okay.

Lost in my own thoughts, I felt Moises grab my hand.

“I’m crazy.”

“Like chop me up and put me into a ditch crazy?”

When I heard it come out of my mouth, I laughed slightly; but the expression on Moises’ face made me burst into laughter. He looked as if he couldn’t believe that I’d asked such a thing. I tried to pretend it was a joke; honestly, I just wanted to ask to see where I stood, and know what my chances of survival would be. Call me crazy, but not knowing just what Moises wanted to say made me want to confirm any suspicions I did have.

“Why would you say that. I may be a little crazy, but not to that extreme.”

“I was just asking. Just to be sure.”

Silence came once again, and we basked in it. He gazing at me, I at him. Just being there was comforting for a while. There was nothing being said, verbally, but the way we searched each other mentally, said more than a enough. I definitely wasn’t falling in love; but I was becoming more and more fond of him.

“Is there somewhere you have to be?”

“No, why’d you ask?”

“Because you keep looking down at your phone. If you need to answer your phone, go ahead. I’m okay with you answering your phone. You keep looking at it.”

When I finally answered my phone, it was my roommate Kelly. We talked for a couple of minutes, and then I hung up.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, she just wanted to know if I was at the apartment or not. She left the back door open, so the dogs could use the bathroom.”

“Oh.”

We sat for a little while longer before, I said I needed to head back. Then, it happened. The most unexpected truth, that although I was expecting it, I wasn’t aware it was going to be as intense and loaded with a proposition.

“I think you’re beautiful.” He said. “I knew I had to meet you the day I saw you. You’re funny, smart, and I would love to continue to get to know you. I just don’t want to lie to you. You’re a good girl, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay.”

“Ugh, I’m MARRIED.”

I’m not sure if I mentally blacked out or what, but for a brief second, I don’t really remember existing in that moment. If I could have actually caught up with all the thoughts that swarmed through my head, I’d tell you what I was thinking. Frankly, had this been a life or death situation, I’d probably died, because my flight or fight response was totally caput. I didn’t move, I didn’t blink, I didn’t speak; I did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. I just sat there, disoriented and confused.

“Did you hear me, I said, I’m married. Is that something you could be okay with?”

I couldn’t believe what was happening. For a split second, I was waiting for some cameras to pop out liked they’d done on “Punk’d” or “Hell Date.” Nothing came. I so desperately wanted to see the little guy in the Satan costume running towards me laughing, because seriously. He was married. I’d been communicating and hanging out with a married man.

“You’re married?”

“Yes, we’re still married. But we’re separated. She’s back in New York. I just got a call though, she’s on her way here, with my son. I have to go pick them up from the airport.”

“Son?”

“We have a seven month old. Is that okay?”

Confused, I sat quietly. Normally I always have something to say, but this time I didn’t. Mentally I could picture my eyes wide open with my jaw dropped all the way to the floor. Kind of like the characters from the animated cartoons. I was stuck, and there he sat, waiting for an answer.

“I would love to continue talking to you, like “buddy buddy.” You’re so smart and beautiful, but only if you’re okay with me being married.”

Finally we pulled up to my apartment, and he continued to say, “My wife will be here for like two weeks. I’ll give you time to think about it, and will call you when she leaves. Don’t call me, I’ll reach out to you.” Then he pulled me closer to him, so that he could hug me, and I walked off.

As soon as I got into my apartment, I plopped onto my bed, in utter shock and disappointment. Married? I couldn’t believe it. Although a great shock, I felt relieved slightly. The entire time we did communicate, I just felt like he was too good to be true; I guess my suspicions were right. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t express how down I’d gotten. The breath of fresh air, called Moises, was married. My “TV guy” had already found his leading lady and I’d just been cast as an extra. I was bummed.

I distinctly remember calling my sister and telling her, that I’d never listen to either of them again. My first mind had told me not to hang out with Moises. However, after talking with my sisters, I’d changed my mind. No feelings had been developed, which was great; but a growing interest did exist.

Time passed gradually, and each day I thought about Moises or read through he and I’s conversations. I mentally fought the urge to reach out to him. Daily I questioned myself. Could I be okay being a mistress to another woman’s husband. Regardless if they were separated or not, they were still married in my eyes. I couldn’t believe I actually considered going through with the process. Me become the “other” woman!!! At one point, I’d decided not to care. I was going to do it. I had made my decision and believed I was content. Wow right? Life hit rock bottom, and I was beginning to look more and more unrecognizable. However, before I did something to rash, the closer it got to week three, and Moises wife heading back to New York, the more I pondered my decision.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be “that” girl, and I didn’t want to be. For the final few days of the two week time period, I literally prayed and talked with myself. “How could you be that selfish, Em?” “Are you seriously considering this?” So much went through my mind, on top of everything else going on in my life, I was in overdrive. I’d reached my threshold and was trying desperately to compensate.

I could be “her.” I just couldn’t be the woman, that knew and disregarded the facts on simple technicalities. How did I really know he and her were separated. He could have just being saying they were, to keep me around. Maybe he thought, I’d feel less bad, and more prone to accept his offer. I’m not sure, but I know what I thought. There were days I couldn’t look myself in the mirror because of the selfish thoughts and plans I’d conjured inside my head.

Then the last day of the two week period, I heard a voice speaking for me, inside of my head. It wasn’t me, but it was speaking in third person, as if it were me. I just couldn’t live with myself. I couldn’t be the woman that deliberately did the very thing I didn’t want to be done to me. How could I live with myself, knowing I played a great percentage in blatantly hurting another woman. Of course, I wasn’t responsible for my actions, prior to the knowledge he’d presented me of his wife; however, the moment I became aware, the responsibility was also upon my shoulders. I thought about the things I wanted for myself. I thought about the relationship I desired to have, and said to my roommate, “I can’t do it. I can’t be the reason she gets hurt. I don’t want to be the one, a man has to lie about. I don’t want to be the one who settles. I can’t account for anything that he’s done so far, but I can make sure I don’t add to the fire. I don’t know her, but I respect her and her relationship. Because one day I just hope that if I was to marry or be in a relationship with a man, and he tried to pursue another woman, she’d consider my feelings. I can only hope that she would have to respect for me, to just say no.

We as people, tend to say “I can’t believe she/he did this,” “I could never be that dumb,” or the infamous, “Oh, that w couldn’t happen to me because, blahze blahze blah.” We spew off these comments in response to another’s actions or choices without fully understanding the situation.

I honestly thank God for keeping me. I believe without Him, things could have spiraled in an entirely different direction. I was given two things, many of us don’t recognize and others never receive: A Choice and Time. Those two weeks Moises wife was in town, gave me the time I needed to process. Had I not been given the freedom to decide, who knows what outcome I’d be writing about today. Apart from that, Moises didn’t have to tell me anything. He could have kept his marriage a secret; especially if she was living so many miles away in New York City. But I’m grateful, that whatever or whomever he saw in me, made him so uncomfortable with his truths, that he exposed himself. I like to think that it was God protecting me from myself. I like to believe that what he saw was far more than an unexplainable happiness within me, and give credit to the only one I know deserves it; GOD.

In those moments I realized just how easy it is to become the “other woman” or “Side piece.” Although it doesn’t seem like that tough of a decision; it was. Because of the experience, I gained a new and profound understanding of how some men and women get swept into these overly complicated love triangles. Not everyone is presented with a proposition, as I was. However, some are. Some men and women have invested much more time, attention, and feelings into these relationships than I’d invested into Moises. Either way, when you truly want something, it takes a great amount of discipline to deny yourself. I never understood how others could be a part of adultery, whether married or unmarried, until I was placed on the same path, and given the opportunity to walk the mile in their shoes. I wrestled within myself, about a man I’d only known for less than a month, although I didn’t give in, the desire to do so was still very strong.

Remember: Gal 6:9 “And let us not grow weary of doing good for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” 

Growing up I always said, that I wouldn’t be like this person, or I would never make the decision that someone made because I had common sense. Well, nearly ten years later, I can say, “That was a lie.” I’ve learnt as time has passed, as experiences are had, and as opportunities (good/bad) have presented themselves. It is because of Grace and Grace alone, that I was kept.

Never judge a person for the decisions they’ve made, because every action has transpired from a previous action. Some decisions are easier for others to make, while those same decisions are hard for the next man. It’s not an excuse, but still a reality. I fully believe the expression:

“Integrity is choosing your thoughts and actions based on values rather than personal gain.” -unknown

Confession:

As I’ve awakened I’ve become aware of just how damaging sleeping on the job can be. Because things seemed to become to impossible to figure out, and often times a little boring, I’d became lackadaisical. I was no longer excited about the things of God as I once was, and I couldn’t figure out why. I was physically awake, but mentally and spiritually I slumped into a self-induced coma. Everyday brought a new journey, but as I showed up for work, it seemed as tedious as the previous day. There was no action, or so I thought. There was no excitement, and quite frankly my heart longed for something different. As I continued to sleep everything metaphorically went up in flames. Alarms had been ringing, doors crept open that should have remained closed, and thoughts, actions, and old perceptions ran free in my life, where they should have been detained and tossed aside. My actions portrayed signs of retreat, like even though the battle had been won, I still fled the responsibility and ownership of the victory. Yes, I’d surrendered everything at the feet of so many idols. Idols wearing the labels of school, love, friendships, work, church, and ministry. So much took up my time, I was exhausted. I’d entered the tunnel, but there was no light at the end. The darker things became, the more I slept, and the greater my despair. But, this time, it crept deeper inside my soul than just any old thing. I’d become locked away, buried behind the “what-ifs”, “should-haves”, the “maybes” and the “why not’s!”

          My inconsistencies drove me to a place of recognition, however what I began to take notice of wouldn’t help me. I no longer began to see how GOOD GOD WAS, I only noticed the failed opportunities, the lack of finances, and how high my grief had risen. I became ungrateful and self-loathing. The best way I can think to describe it is like this:

          One day, I’d just waken up around 7:30 am, trying to rush and get ready for my 8:00 am class. I rushed to the shower, brushed my teeth, and pulled my hair into a ponytail. Yet, I couldn’t find the slightest thing in my closet to wear. It was 7:50 am and time was running out. By the time I would actually get dressed and make it to class, I’d be late.

“I like the pants, but this shirt isn’t right!” I would say, as I tossed the shirt aside, rummaging through my drawers to find another. “Oh, that’s cute, but these pants are too tight. Maybe I can get away with it!” I’d think again, but then I’d hear the Holy Spirit, unctioning me to change. Annoyed I undressed and quickly tossed the clothing aside, ready to go for my third option.

The clock read 7:59.

“Ugh, where are my tights; I can’t find my tights.” Frustrated I threw my dress down; scrambling to just find anything at this point)

8:00am came and I was out of time.

Once my time elapsed more complaints came. Instead of seeing the fault in my lack of preparation and unwillingness to wake up on time, I questioned everything. I no longer believed what I had was sufficient and said things like, “I don’t have enough clothing, I need to go shopping.” My judgement had become so clouded and my frustrations raged violently within my mind. Out of annoyance I yelled at myself, “This doesn’t make any sense, I just bought clothes, and now I’m too fat to fit them.” The solution was simple, but I couldn’t be bothered to realize it; so I began putting myself down. I criticized my weight, my skin, my hair, and just about anything that affirmed why what I had just didn’t fit. (Yes, that escalated and spiraled out of control very quickly).

          I never realized, it was laundry time, I only noticed what I didn’t have. Everything seemed to go wrong. I was late for class and I had to settle on an outfit I didn’t even like. What luck, right?

My entire day had been altered by the morning’s events, and I just couldn’t get over it. It consumed my thoughts that entire day. How I interacted with others was affected. My attitude was beyond intolerable and other people noticed. One person even said to me, “Em, whatever it is, it’ll be okay. Dang, don’t become somebody you’re not.” (and they didn’t even know what was wrong).

After all my classes were done, and work was over, I went home. When I’m frustrated I tend to clean, so I began cleaning my home. A few hours passed, and I’d scrubbed the bathroom, kitchen, and living room until I was satisfied. Suddenly the thought “Maybe I should just wash,” came. What relief, because the moment I began to separate my clothes to do the laundry, I quickly noticed how much I really did have. All the complaining I had done earlier that day, caused me to devalue myself and settle for something I wasn’t fond of, all because of two simple and fixable complications:

1. My poor time management skills

2. My inability to see the solution staring me in the face.

But what does this have to do with anything? The answer is simple. It has everything to do with why I and so many others walk around spiritually sleeping, while there’s work to be done. We don’t give God the time He requires, nor the attention He deserves. And in that state of being, lackadaisical behaviors, ungratefulness, self-loathing, lack of self-worth, and so much more becomes our reaction.

          I believe that when we don’t allot ourselves the proper time, with God, that a true relationship requires, our vision can get cloudy. Not because the vision has become unclear, but because we’ve begun to look at life through the wrong set of eyes. And in this area, I lacked consistency, commitment, and passion. Not only did I create problems that weren’t there, but I allowed my own disposition to affect my relations/interactions with others. It wasn’t until I returned to my home, tidied the mess I created, and shifted my focus that I was able to see what was there in the first place. So my advice to you is, never lose sight of who YOUR GOD, OUR GOD IS because of what we can/can’t feel, what we do/don’t see, or what we should/shouldn’t have. Remain consistent, faithful, and intimate with God no matter how it feels or what comes along. It’s working for your good!!!!!

Proverbs 3:3-8 “Let not mercy and truth forsake thee: bind them about thy neck; write them upon the table of thine heart: ⁴So shalt thou find favor and good understanding in the sight of God and man. ⁵Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. ⁶In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths. ⁷Be not wise in thine own eyes: fear the LORD, and depart from evil. ⁸It shall be health to thy navel, and marrow to thy bones.”

Confession:

As the young ladies began to settle in to sleep around 4 am, it’d finally gotten to us. What started off as a simple game of “Two Truths and a Lie,” quickly spiraled into something, none of us bargained for. Everything within me wished she would just skip me, especially after hearing Savannah’s (for confidentialities sake, names have been changed) truth. Everything she’d said, had been God holding a mirror to my face, and showing me not my outward appearance, but my inward closets. The doors I had closed off to His healing and shut off from His touch were all being exposed right before everyone, but through another’s words. Quietly I sat desperately trying to settle the rising conflictions within my soul before anyone noticed. Desperate not to be found out, I mumbled a prayer to God asking Him spare me. Then suddenly I heard,

“Emily, you didn’t go deep!”

Before I knew it, my heart began to explode and all it’s filthy little secrets started spilling over. Every wall came crashing down, as if Savannah’s story was an epitome of the Israelites that’d marched quietly around the walls of Jericho, and now the seventh day had finally come, the silence had been broken, praise started going up, and every wall came crashing down without hesitation.

             “Yes, they’re talking about something else, I’ve escaped.”

My mind boggled the idea of the slight change in conversation, because for me, I’d just dodged the bullet aiming straight towards my heart. Or so I thought. Not even five minutes later, everything within me was in an uproar at, who I’d like to call Mother Kate’s abrupt interruption; “Emily, it’s your turn to go deep.” At that moment I knew there was no going back, either I conquer what had been conquering me this entire year, or I hold onto such a torpedo locked-in on my life. I took a deep breathe and parted the very gates, whose walls caged all my secrets, and didn’t look back. I dove into a sea of wilderness, stroking my way through the waves, getting tossed by the tide, until I reached the shore, to safety. Mother Kate asked “So, how’s Emily?” and my response was “I’m wounded.”

Wounded was the perfect word to describe my state of being at that current time. In my mind, I’d been the soldier on the battlefield who’d stepped on a bomb, and once it exploded, no I had not been killed, but boy did I wish I had been. It was so much I couldn’t handle, and I didn’t know how to allow God to have my burden and take upon myself His. On November 10, 2012 my oldest known (which I’ll explain that expression later) died in a car accident around 4-5 am that morning. I couldn’t bare the weight of the news that had been thrown at me, that day, so I did everything in my power to dodge it, but my attempts failed. Though he’d died, that wasn’t the sole issue. To add ammunition to an already blazing fire, God had shown me a funeral through a dream, November 1, 2012, just nine days prior. In this dream, I remember walking into my mother’s house and seeing two of my sisters sitting in the living room talking, and when they noticed me, one called out, “Em, calm down.” Before I knew it, I could hear the Lord’s voice over everything saying “The enemy is putting death decrees, sicknesses, & attacks on your family. The enemy is all over your family.” As I slammed the door, I screamed out loud frustrated and very angrily. My two sisters scared and shocked told me to calm down, but I pushed my hands through my hair and said, “The devil is a liar, take your filthy hands off my family, I declare you to leave my family right now.” then I woke up.

Because of that  dream, I became angry. (Why couldn’t I have done something? I could have saved him! It’s all my fault! I knew, and still did nothing), are only a smidgen of the condemning things that swarmed my mind. That entire week, and the previous weekend, I’d been praying for my family in many ways, through many opportunities with church families, friends, and alone. I’d communicated with almost everyone, except my brothers (him being one of them) letting them know, and yet and still he died. I felt as if my prayers weren’t answered. Even the night of his death at around 3:30 am, I’d been up, and right before I feel asleep, I heard his name being whispered to me, so I uttered a final prayer of protection, and I shut my eyes. Deep within myself, I was enraged. Which leads to the next stumbling block thrown my way.

When people began to find out about my dream back home, before I even arrived, they’d already made up in their mind, she’s strong because God allowed her to see such a thing; and when I finally did arrive, people and their expectations for me, drove me nearly insane. They’d say things like “Who’d God prepare first?” “You need to be the strong one, Emily.” “Don’t cry!” and my favorite “Pull yourself together, you knew, and had time to prepare, be strong.” Hence the creation of THE MASK. From that day, up until a short while ago, I’d put on layer after layer of this mask, to conceal my truest feelings, in order to “BE STRONG.” But answer me this! Does strength constitute a vessel without weakness, or one who recognizes his/her weakness? Does it discourage the existence of vulnerability? Can it still be strength, even when the next move is still unknown to the warrior? And who’s strength do we rely on, ours or God’s?

As they lowered my brother’s body into the ground, so they lowered the “real me.” I could no longer be her, because of other’s expectations. So I let her die, and left her in a place I’d never want to revisit again. Not just because it was the same place I’d left my brother, but because it was also where I’d have to confront what I was really feeling.

Broken, I became time after time. It even got to the point where, not only was I broken, but each piece of me that had been broken off, was also being shattered in the same process. People’s expectations for my life continued to rise, and I’d become so hidden I couldn’t even recognize myself. I became afraid to make mistakes. Everything I did, had to be done right, even if I was doing wrong, I allowed others to believe it was done properly, to maintain this image of perfection. Expectations from my family, friends, church members, even the people who didn’t like or favor me as a person just compiled into this big gapping whole in my heart, where Jesus should have been. What He had to say, I’d tune out, because I was angry, but also because I was afraid that if I listened it would only mean something else would be taken from me. Pressures were building from all sides, on the left was school and family; the right contained friends and work; and within me were the expectations God had for my life. I couldn’t take it, so I decided to end it all.

“At least, I’ll be with my brother.”

I thought as if suicide could solve anything. First I attempted to run myself off the road, then I wanted to drown, and then I just wanted to run into another car, and just give up. “Boy, does giving up sound good right now” an example of the type of thoughts rumbling through my mind, picking at every fiber within me, to just “Wave the white flag. Throw the towel in.” Of course the enemy didn’t make it any better. He encouraged my behavior. He made me feel worthless, unwanted, and unloved. He had me thinking that God Himself had it out for me, when in reality it was the other way around. God wanted me whole, but I wouldn’t listen, I just couldn’t because that meant another heartbreak. It meant something being stripped away; it meant I’d loose more than I’d gain. Well that’s what I forced myself to believe. Rapidly things progressed, depression set in, and  it became one thing after another. Whether it was some class I was failing; a loss of an important friendship that I’d cherished deeply, or even financial difficulties; further and further I slipped into this bubble of darkness, and the only images I could see were the thick layers of the mask, and in my hand, the next layer I was to add. I began to feel un-pretty. So I’d put on fake hair and fancy clothes to warrant a smile, to suppress my true unhappiness.

2013 vastly began to slip through my fingers, and just a day or two after the anniversary of my brother’s death, I’d gotten a call. Someone I loved, a person I talked to almost every day, and someone I held dear tried to commit suicide. “How dare she?” I was soo angry and hurt. “How could she do this to me?” Immediately mental accusations begun to fly and all I could hear was “Another thing God wants to take away from me. To be one that loves so deeply & so passionately He sure has a funny way of showing it.”

My latest mask was already in position, not one new layer but ten. “I need you to pray” one person said. But how could I, I was weighed down by my own fear and un-forgiveness. “You’ve got to be strong.” another expressed. “What do you think about the situation?” so many asked. Never, not once was it “Are you okay? How are you holding up? Let it all out, it’s okay.” Not once did I get the compassion and sympathy everyone else so desperately yanked from within me. I had nothing left to give! But I did have something to take, MY LIFE. This time just had to work. I needed to succeed; if I failed at this, then I’d continue to live under the constraints of someone else’s expectations. The pressure was too much. To add insult to injury, there stood the outsider. The one who wanted to replace my brother. The one who I’d never known. The bastard. The poser. The “other child.”

I couldn’t help but think, when I’d gotten the news, someone wanted to take Edward’s place, but I wouldn’t allow it. I couldn’t. Edward was like my father. He was the one I ran to like a six year old girl would run to her father every moment he walked through the door. Yet this intruder and with his impure motives had the nerve to say “I just want to get to know my family.” “Psssh, he’s not any family of mine, he doesn’t even look like us.” Id taken my fill, and now I was done. I’d forgotten to pray, and even how to pray. I’d lost all accountability, because I isolated myself from the little support I did have. Ultimately I became bitter. I’d kept going to church, playing the role, acting out my part, but within myself, deep inside, I was cold. No fire, no warmth, no anything, because the young woman inside had stop searching, and gotten lost between all the madness.

But GOD IS SOOOOO PHENOMINAL. He’d never gotten lost. He was and continues to be by my side. He kept track of the original version of me, and wasn’t persuaded or moved by the Emily I created or attempted to be. That Friday night at the lock-in, one of my spiritual mothers (Mother Paula) said something, I knew only God could have said to her. She said, “Just be Emily! There is so much freedom in just being Emily.” Just within that moment years worth of masks were being ripped off all at once. Who would have imagined such few words could possess the power to unravel a mystery I created out of fear. I began to hope instantly. Underneath it all, I wanted to live, I wanted to be happy, and I wanted a way out. I just didn’t see it happening. However, at that moment, in the midst of those women, I saw God highlighting a path to freedom. It WASN’T my strong nature that attracted my heart to Christ in the first place, but because of my brokenness I desired more of Him, but I couldn’t understand it.

What I learned at the end of that year was to embrace the pain. Embrace the struggle and grab hold to Jesus like never before. I began to tell myself, “YOU  were never meant to carry the burden alone, nor at all for that matter. You were destined to hand it over to God in exchange for His yoke. “Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken.” – Proverbs 52:22 & “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls“-Matthew 11:29

My advice to each of you that feel weighed down by the pressures and expectations of this world, just be you! DROP THE MASKS. Embrace who you are. The bible tells you not to seek unrighteousness, for it’s product is death (Proverbs 21:20-21); but it’s okay to make mistakes. You don’t have to have it all together, and wrapped neatly with a nice bow on top. No one is perfect and you’ll never find perfection looking through a worldly perspective. Only Christ’s perfection counts, and I don’t mean the Holier than though, I can do no wrong, cast judgement upon everyone who doesn’t walk, talk, worship, or yell like I do, Christ-like perfection. I mean the perfection in Christ that gives you the full awareness that it is by Grace alone that you are here. Through Christ’s love that you are wanted, adored, and even delighted in; and in His image you were created. I say it again, put down the mask, because within concealing you, you’re concealing greatness. Be encouraged and DON’T GIVE UP. Stay in a place of communion with Christ because in your weakness, it is His strength that girds you and upholds you. Pray, Seek, Read, and ALWAYS REJOICE, because your ladder will be greater than your past, as it is written:“The end of a matter is greater than it’s beginning.” – Ecl.7:8

Remember: Ecl. 7:2-4 “It is better to go to a house of mourning Than to go to a house of feasting, Because that is the end of every man, And the living takes it to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, For when a face is sad the heart may be happy. The mind of the wise is in the house of mourning, While the mind of fools is in the house of pleasure.”