One of the other girls also writes a blog, one that I had read previously, especially to find out the particulars of the engagement to her now-husband. I stopped reading her blog because a) she stopped writing one and b) I had the overwhelming feeling that her life was significantly better and more interesting than my own. I told her that, and was subsequently floored when it turns out that she stopped reading blogs altogether for awhile because she felt the same way! This girl who is happily married to an amazing Christian man, holds a position as an admissions counselor at the local university, attends a local church at which she has many good friends, and a million other little things believes her life to be just as boring as mine, a single 24-yr old girl still living with her parents working a temporary job adjusting insurance claims with no close friends within a hundred miles.
It's amazing how easy it is to prefer someone else's life because we're so accustomed to our own.
For a long time I have believed that if I moved somewhere else, got a different job, attended a different church, that suddenly my life would take on some meaning. That I would find a group of Christian friends I could spend time with, have a successful career doing something I enjoy, that living in a city instead of a very small town in the middle of Nowhere, Ohio, would give me more opportunity to discover myself.
And perhaps it will, once I find the right place.
Moving to CT didn't do it for me. I did find friends, but only a small handfull of them were Christians, and most of the time I was with Neal hanging in my apartment watching Law & Order SVU, the only TV show worth watching before 3pm. Back here in my parent's house I spend the entire morning alone, entertaining myself, often working out and then weighing myself so I can marvel at the fact that I weigh six pounds less now than I did this time last year and then nursing my poor bum knee.
It's a lonely existence.
photo from weheartit.com
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