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elizabeth keep writing and so will i deal kewl

God’s Insipid Purpose

Is this chaste form of love supposed to enthrall me to support some higher form of divinity, or inspire me to commit acts of random kindness in the street. Is His love intended to give me faith, give me hope, give me as reason to live. They tell me that He loves everyone, that his love will never end because of his great patience for all things. I don’t see how one man can put up with so much bullshit that the world has become. Do I even believe in Him anymore? I’ve got so many damn mixed up feelings that I can’t even tell what I feel anymore. Love is hate, hate is love, and she is standing there at the door, staring at me and I can’t for the life of me even look at her because I am so ashamed to even think that I am worthy of her pure heart, of her lovely face, or her innocence. I am so ashamed of the person I have become and the principles I have put before everything that is truly important in my life that I have touched the end of this looking glass and broken through. God is waiting there with his outstretched hand and it is inevitable that my demise is of my moral shortcomings, for I reached out to grasp his hand and was only grabbing His disdain. That is why I am ashamed to look her in the eyes. That is why she left me, because my decadent lust has marked me undesirable. I look into those deep green eyes and I see nothing but the reflection of my own contempt, my own horrible secrets, and that foul plunge I took to save myself from the terrors of this world, to free myself from its insipid purpose, and in all glory take away every wasted feeling I spent on her relented heart. Is this love, is this grace? Did my Lord create me for this purpose, to refute every detail of the truth just to keep her from bleeding again. Her lips are haunting me, because I wish to kiss them firmly but I am not deserving of her touch, not estimable of her love. This is a helplessly lost cause, and she is a hopeless romantic.