I Must Choose

Reads: 382  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A significant piece for me...choosing to be this honest with myself is a difficult thing.

Submitted: May 02, 2009

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 02, 2009

A A A

A A A


It’s time for some brutal honesty. I’m tired of hiding who I have become. I want to be transformed but I must first bring my darkness into light.
Tonight I stuck a sharpie in a place it doesn’t belong. I wanted it to feel good (honestly it didn’t) – I wanted to feel good.  I admit, I’ve read way to much online about women and sexuality – about masturbation (proper techniques, pleasurable techniques, creative techniques...) and how we need to stop thinking of it as sin, about sticking foreign objects up there (i.e. the sharpie) like bananas and weird shaped veggies (thanks to Adam for showing me veggie porn)...
I know more than I want to about sexuality. Truth is I want to wait until I’m married to have sex. Truth is I don’t trust my own desires. I don’t think I’m really afraid of losing my virginity, I just feel like I’ve got this passion locked up inside me, and I’m afraid of giving it away before the time is right.
I’ve been with guys before, let them do things to me. Wow I can’t even quite remember who’s done what without really thinking about it. One guy got me to put my hand down his pants – it really wasn’t even that great (disgusting if you want to describe it, but yet somehow still desirable). That was when I first discovered the boxer flap.
Another guy convinced me to go into his room (while his roommate was in the other bed sleeping)...for the first time I had simulated sex (technically called dry humping). It was an intense experience, at times painful, at times amazing.
I’m pretty sure I orgasmed for the first time that night. I felt my foot cramp up – “I can do a lot more than make your foot cramp” he said smiling – as my hips were moving up and down...then for a few minutes I felt this tingly sensation, impossible to fully describe, rippling up and down my body.
I woke up a few hours later, opened my eyes and saw his face, felt his warm body against mine. And I cannot say it wasn’t comforting. I cannot say I didn’t feel somehow more human to be laying so close to another person, even if I didn’t know his last name, even though I couldn’t remember the image of his face just hours later...
When I think about those times, it saddens me. I know that each guy I’ve been with – I’ve given a little piece of myself away to him. Even if it was merely kissing – well, making out – it still had meaning. Yet still, I can’t deny those feelings, that hunger, that craving of human contact. Being so close to another that I could feel him – the heat of his back – smell him – even when he was far away – breathe him in like air...
After all the romance I’ve seen on TV, all the romance I’ve imagined in my head, I found my own romance, even if it only lasted a few hours.
But it wasn’t sufficient...each time I left his room feeling empty, battered, barely myself. Thinking intimacy would give me peace, instead I found that it stole something from me, from deep within my soul.
I know I can’t just take back those moments, pretend they never existed.But I can pray for courage, to distill the memories, to move forward into His love and out of my lust. That’s what it is, pure and simple, it’s lust. No matter how good it feels, how right or wrong it seems, how addicting it can become, it is purely lust.
I struggle. I fight to wait, to stay innocent and holy. Sometimes I lose, begin to sink and lose my breath. Sometimes I even hold my breath on purpose – just because I can, perhaps to see how long it will last.
But that is not me – the drowning little girl is not who I really am inside. Like Peter who walked on water but then fell, gave himself over to the storm, to his fear, even though his faith could have held him up.
Well I’m tired of giving in, tired of feeling shame, tired of living a double life.  Though no one has witnessed – besides God above – what I do to myself, I know. I feel it, the ache that spreads through my bones. I feel it, the glory that comes when I give up my desires and worship Him. And I feel the unworthiness, the mud that sticks to me at those in-between times.
I want out. I cannot deny my earthly passions, but I can no longer subdue my spiritual fire. I cannot have two masters any longer. I must choose, I must submit...
I must bring my darkness to light.
 


© Copyright 2020 Darkness into Light. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Comments

More Non-Fiction Miscellaneous