Third Floor Tom Foolery
Outside my office here at work is a large hole in the floor. Called the "Atrium".
You can see between all the floors. It's actually kind of fun.
Today I got in trouble for dropping G.I. Joes off the 3rd floor balcony with the Audio Visual Director. His secretary yelled at us.
We accidentally were dropping them into the cake they were having downstairs.
It's not my fault it's hard to compensate for inter-floor air flows when using a parachute-equipped G.I. Joe.
The Vent
For four years now my life has been a constant reminder of my past. My wrong choices. My misdeeds. My bad decisions.
Two years ago when I finally got right with God, I heard him tell me that I needed to go fix things. I had to go back and talk to the people that I had done ought against and make restitution. I needed to make it right. Repair the damage I had done.
I've done it with every single person - except one.
I've held off doing it because I respected her. I was told that I could go back to my old church if I wanted to to visit. I haven't because I respect her. I was told I could see all my old friends and hang out again. I haven't because I respected her.
For the last 10 months my decisions in regard to my past have been based on how they would effect someone else's life.
A month ago the Holy Spirit started prompting me to talk to her and make it right. It took a month, but I finally decided to do it.
I got the ball rolling. I talked to some people. Consulted my Pastor. Asked what the right thing to was. They told me to talk to her, but first they wanted to ask if she wanted to talk to me.
She took the opportunity to tell them I was "stalking her", and that I was "freaking her out" for wanting to fix things.
Basically, she took my face and shoved it into the ground.
Two or three years ago I'd probably be all depressed now.
But that was then - and this is now.
Now I'm angry. I have done all that was asked of me. Read in the Word the right things to do and the right ways to do it - and for what? To get my face shoved into the ground?
Screw her. I've tried to stay away. I've not hung out with people or visited my friends because I was worried about hurting her - but if she wants to be five years old, forget her.
With this act of hers the door to the past is shut for me. Slammed shut. I will no longer care what happens.
A friend told me that the opposite of love isn't hate. It's indifference.
If the opposite is indifference, so be it.
I no longer care.
