Second thoughts

A few hours too late, the nauseating thought occurs to me: I don’t even want to go.
Maybe it will be fun. If it’s fun, and what is past is prelude, then it won’t end up going anywhere. Then it’s all this emotional investment for nothing. And if it’s not fun – well, I suppose it could still end up being a good story. But it’s never fun feeling awkward, or like you’re having a job interview over dinner. Perhaps someday, a woman will perfect the phrase that communicates “this has all been lovely, but would you mind sitting at the vacant booth on the other side of the restaurant for the rest of the evening?” and make an impressive sum selling the book.
Going through the motions – that’s what it feels like. Completing my due diligence so I can tell my friends, my family, and perhaps with more resentment than I’d like to admit, even God Himself that I’ve done everything I can. Is my heart even in it? I don’t know; I don’t think anyone knows. And when you tend to extremes, as I do, the line becomes guard your heart, which after a while starts sounding like don’t get your hopes up.
And then, I remember, that it’s not about me doing what I can. It’s Him doing what I can’t. I trust that Truth for salvation but ignore it in my everyday life. I hate being illogical. But I take comfort in the fact logic, and illogic, too, will pass.