Entry# 5: Theories

“He was gone, and I did not have time to tell him what I had just now realized: that I forgave him, and that she forgave us, and that we had to forgive to survive in the labyrinth.”

-Looking For Alaska, John Green

This quote speaks volumes.

So much so that I have nothing left to say.

....Just kidding.

It's past midnight where I am, and this last week, this last hour, I can't stop thinking about God's theory for my life.

Like, when He (or she . . . I don't discriminate) decided to birth me up, pop me in Kansas, and place random people in my life was there a game plan behind it, or was it all free play?

There's one person, in particular, that has recently been placed in my life that has literally driven me crazy since the first moment we met. ( . . . and something tells me it's always going to be this way.)

Before we were friends, I knew we were going to be intertwined in some random way, and I knew I'd be ruined because of it.
I remember the first time I felt it. We were in a dimly lit room, there were candles in front of me, and past the candles sat a bright face with downcast eyes. I felt like that bubble in the GIF above, tingles waltzed down my spine, and somehow I knew we'd be friends. Somehow I knew that, whatever path I choose, they'd be at the end of it.

So naturally, that scared the crap out of me, and I had anxiety about it for weeks.

And when I saw this person again, it was like a rush of waves had gone through me, and I was overcome with peace and excitement.

It's no surprise, as predicted, the mystery person and I developed a friendship. And now, after ruining most of it (also as predicted), I feel like a character in John Green's book; I feel like I'm lost in the labyrinth. I'm far in, but I can still remember what entering the labyrinth feels like. And I think it's that feeling that's got me lost in the first place.

So how do I get out without losing myself?

Honestly, world, friends, whoever's reading this right now, I have no freaking idea.

I don't know how to get out of this hole I call home. I don't know how to get out of the labyrinth.

But maybe this "theory" for my life is this: Lose yourself in the labyrinth, Britney, and when you do, figure out what brought you to the labyrinth in the first place. 

Something tells me that this labyrinth, this ruined/destined friendship of mine, has a lot more to say than I've bargained for.

Maybe if I close my eyes, I'll hear the still voice.