landslide.

Dear ----------,
I am sitting on the side of a mountain writing to you this letter. Letters are much more difficult than conversations. Its hard to stay to the point, because my thoughts are constantly wandering. With conversation, there is someone else to keep you on track. Maybe that is why God created other people and relationships -- so that we could actually think and whatnot -- ha ha, probably not. Oh well.
Well, since I am sitting here by myself with no one to converse with, I guess that you are going to get whatever random tangent comes to mine. Neat-o.
There are about a bajillion humming birds up here, and they all seem very fond of mating. I laughed at them for a while, but then sombered up when my mind drew the parallel between them and humans. (Drat. And once again thinking ruins one of life's hilarities -- but onle for a little while - they are just too dang funny not to laugh at.) Anyway, it just all seems so futile. C'mon! You are all just birds! You eat, mate and die. There is no hope for anything different or better. Why do you keep doing it?! Its hard to be realistic and not become cynical. But then, on the flip side of things, It really is difficult to stay cynical when everything that is surrounding me is incredible. And honestly, the lake, the mountain, the view -- they all are spectacular, and I would be very content if there were no humming birds. But none of those things have made me laugh or brought joy like these "futile" little birds have.
And maybe thats the basis of romance and relationship -- this little extra that we would be fine without, but that undeniably brings something to this life like nothing else can.
Hmm...Maybe relationships have less to do with love and more to do with hope and joy, and the hope of more joy to come. Think about it -- we might love our enemies, but we don't date them. Relationships start out of hope and joy and they end when the hope and joy are gone or if they've moved on to a new locations.
I also think that there is a deception. It's a false sense of this hope/joy combination that drives people to do foolish things. I believe it is not unlike the same feeling compulsive gamblers have. And unfortunately, it is not until they are found lacking something that they once cherished that they realize they were the the fool.
Then what happens next? Forgiveness. Not in the sense of "I'll take you back, lets forget that this happened" or even by giving up the pain that is caused. The pain was and is real. No, forgive to let go of bitterness. It is bitterness, not pain that will eat you up. (I realize that I am writing this as much to myself as I am to you.) Even if the other person doesn't know it right away, you must forgive. To go through it once is hard enough, but to keep reliving it is terrible.
Ok, new thought -- what then is love? Maybe it is a commitment to never even allow yourself to look for that hope and joy in anyone else. Maybe thats why marriages fall apart -- they were "committed" to each other, but they let their eyes and heart wander -- not with sinister intentions necessarily, and maybe it's not even that they let them wanter, but they had just neglected to guard against the temptations others present.
Ugnh. So how the heck do we know that when it's ok or safe to give away part of our hearts to someone else? I guess we don't. I read something that I'd written in my Bible -- "Without risk there is no faith" -- and I think that having faith in someone else is much more sketchy than having faith in God. It's a huge risk. And maybe thats why we're not forced to take it. And maybe love isn't the one to blame. Maybe it's not love that makes us turn to jello and blithering idiots. Maybe love is just a simplistic act of departing from ones self so that it doesn't care of it's accepted or rejected or forgotten. Is that possible? Oh, I don't know. Maybe there is no such thing as romantic love...? Bah.
Anyway, I am praying for you. Keep loving others as its in your heart to do. Id you have thoughts to add or whatnot, let me know.

Sincerely,
Lisa Page.