Un-sleep.

because smarter--and often times, dead-- people say it better:

Of all arguments against love none makes so strong an appeal to my nature as “Careful! This might lead you to suffering.”

To my nature, my temperament, yes. Not to my conscience. When I respond to that appeal I seem to myself to be a thousand miles away from Christ. If I am sure of anything I am sure that His teaching was never meant to confirm my congenital preference for safe investments and limited liabilities.…

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell. (From The Four Loves, as found in The Inspirational Writings of C.S. Lewis, 278-279.)

This helps make sense of why it is we take emotional risks. Risks are investments. Sometimes, it accrues interest. And sometimes, it just bottoms out. But even then, there is always something to be learned. Perhaps, next time one would not invest so much so soon, or take more time to think about what it is that they are investing in, etc.

Though, even the promise of increasing knowledge and spiritual growth does not take away from the very painful experience of "bottoming out." I believe that, in this backwards reality that is Christianity, the "bottoming out" is what keeps our hearts tender and more receptive to God's grace. The tenderhearted are less likely to be complacent in spirit, but seeking Truth actively, clinging tightly onto God's promises.

Realistically speaking, none of what I said makes the recovery process any simpler. God's promises are never meant to be used as Novocaine to numb away the pain. Wouldn't that be convenient? Most important lesson I've learned in these past 2-3 weeks: it's not about convenience. It's about something else. Though, I realize that it's 2:33 am and I have not the heart to tell you at this point. Maybe some sleep will do me good.

(sorry if this post just, all of a sudden, became anti-climactic)