proof.

Last week I was helping a couple of women look for some tops for their excursion to Vegas.  Because I enjoy interacting with people on a closer level, I started opening up about my ties to Nevada.  Somehow I started going in depth about how I recently gave up the opportunity to compete at Miss Nevada because of some really difficult circumstances placed before me (because this is the sort of thing you discuss with perfect strangers who just want good tank tops for their pool visits).  When I was finished, one of the ladies looked into me and said, "Good for you for making the hard decision."

Maybe it's silly, but that experience will never leave my memory.  Of course she didn't know intimate details (few of you do) and of course she didn't know my story (a few of you wish you didn't) and of course she didn't know the desires of my heart (a few of you wish that I actually knew), but she recognized the painful choice placed before me and she recognized the strength it took to actually make that choice.

Friends, I can't tell you everything.  I just can't.  I wish I could.  I wish I could transcribe my pretty, blue leather journal into this impersonal, white blogger box.  I wish I could let you see all of the complications and the paradoxes and the tearing that happens inside my mind.  There are so many things that I don't know, that I try to work out, and that I probably choose wrong.  And of course I've placed myself in a visible position through twitter, and blogger, and facebook, and Al Gore's lovely invention - so you tend to see the end result of what has been a severely intense process.

Things have been a little rough recently.  One of the people who means more to me than the English language is capable of expressing recently stated that our friendship was too exhausting to continue.  Is that how I am?  Am I too exhausting for all of you?  I thought friendship meant carrying each other during those extremely tough times and jumping in puddles together whenever you can.  Unfortunately this friendship ended at the same time that I lost something else, so add in the fact that this is a weird week for me to be experiencing and I am just trapped in a glass case of emotion.

A lot of people like this idea of living life without regrets.  It's a pretty idea, filled with recklessness and drive and ambition.  It's also impossible.  I felt regret by the time I was thirteen years old; no way am I going to get through the rest of my existence without even a twinge of what might have been.  To say that I won't regret never having the chance to compete at Miss America is to lie, and to lie badly.  I did want it, and I do want it right now at 12:38 a.m., and I'll always wish I had had it.  But when the circumstances keep you from living that particular dream, there's not much you can do.

Luckily I have other dreams.  I'm not just a one trick pony.  I adore my job, and I'm praying that one day I will be a published author, and I have a beautiful future in front of me, even if I have no idea who is actually in it besides Erika and my family.

A few years ago I dropped out of a pageant because I needed to know the answer to a lingering question.  The answer came and the answer burned.  That single decision still affects me and always will, but if I hadn't made it then that unhappy situation would have been a perpetual part of my limbo life.  This is what I've learned in 24 years: most choices bring some measure of pain.  Choosing to leave a lifestyle for a better one can be painful, even if you know to your core it's the right choice.  Choosing to leave a person can be nearly impossible, especially if you know it's the right choice.  Choosing to leave a path can bring regret.  But those granules of pain almost assuredly lead to the joy that results from following the whisperings God can provide.

So if you're asking me face to face, no I'm not really okay.  I had to be a grown up when I was thirteen years old, and it's been an exhausting ten years of often losing my short term desires because of circumstance or unique situation.  But as I realized at dinner with my friend Emily, I am actually happy.  Despite the constant need for a prayer to get through each day... or wait a second, maybe it's because of that.

No pity my way, please - I've got a job and a great house to live in and wonderful friends and beautiful nieces and nephews and parents who care and the confirmation that I'm a daughter of God who is important, even if she doesn't always feel wanted by those on Earth.

Good luck to the girls competing at Miss Nevada this week.  Maybe in another lifetime :)

And love and prayers to those of you who need an extra lift.  We're fighting together, remember?  Even if we can't actually interact together anymore, know that I still love and care for you - probably always will.