Those January Blues

This has been one of those weekends where I wonder if I have the gift of tongues, but the reflexive gift of interpretation of tongues is lost on my associates. Maybe I've been speaking Polish or Prussian or Pig Latin, because I'm having a heck of time getting the right messages across. It has been one big mess after another.

The short and the short of it is thus:

1) There is a man who thinks I'm in love with him. The problems with such thinking are as follows:

• Currently, I am not.
• I have no immediate plans to be in such a state with him (nor with any other gentleman of my current acquaintance).
• He seems uncomfortable with the idea.
• Not only is the idea uncomfortable to me at this juncture, but also his reaction is a bit insulting. You know, if you think someone likes you, shouldn't you at least be a little flattered? To run screaming, throw up, or to act pompous because you think your supposed-admirer is so far beneath you is really rather rude. What I guess I'm saying is, HAD I actually been interested, what is so wrong with that?
• This situation appears as further evidence of my general communication defects. Men I am merely nice to think I'm planning our wedding. Men I would like to get to know dismiss me as unfeeling because I treat all people well. There's just no winning.

2) I am finding it rather taxing apologizing to someone over and over again, only to have the individual yell at me further. Out of the blue, I received a rather mean text message today from a number I didn't recognize. I got accused of some pretty heinous stuff, but where there might even be a grain of truth, I've done what I can to rectify the problem. In a way, I'm glad that I've learned to be brave enough to own up to my own mistakes, transgressions and shortcomings, but it is also hard because:

• These criticisms tend to come on Sundays, which is always particularly difficult. After a long week (heck, even just a long day) of trying to do some things for others, it is discouraging to hear how you've fell short, or flagrantly failed. Not that I do things for a pat on the back. It's just that service more often comes with a kick in the pants.
• I worry I give off the persona of someone who couldn't care less. I think it's because my parents always wanted me to have a thick skin. But I care a lot more than I should.
• Even though the goal is to have a thick skin, I'm rather prone to water-works. Example: this afternoon I was talking to an individual who had basically thrown me under the bus. But I didn't call, demanding an apology. I just wanted to ask this person for HIS forgiveness if I'd communicated incorrectly. I briefly explained the situation at hand, told him that I was aware of his part in it, and rather than rip him a new one (because does that ever win any friends? No, of course it doesn't!), I started crying and told him how sorry I WAS. Even though I'm not still sure I did that inappropriate. Oh, I know where my faults lie, but it was a good reminder that one doesn't apologize with any expectation of the other party making things right. Jesus said to forgive everyone, not just the people who try to make peace with you, right? Still, it's difficult sometimes.

3) Oh honestly, who knows? I can't think straight. My life is a shamble of emotion and weirdness. I'm exhausted at 6:30 p.m. I am down a couple of friends. Boys in the church parking lot kissed me today, and it wasn't what you'd call enjoyable. Some girls might like having five boys kiss her, one right after the other, but I'm not one of them. My shoulders feel like they weigh three tons. My hands hang down. I need a lift.