The Question You're Asking (a guest post for Guarded Hearts)

Today I'm guest posting over at Guarded Hearts, about a question we tend to ask ourselves when we wish that we were dating. Won't you join us? You can find the blog itself here and the post here. 


A little bit of what I wrote...


This was the first time I’d ever fallen close to love – and the question lingered on long after he had gone to college and I had continued at my school, and had crushes on other guys and hoped that they would ask me out. Why doesn’t he want to date me? I asked my friends at sleepovers. I asked my parents in car rides back from the mall drinking Coke from McDonald’s. I asked God sitting with my back against the soft wood of the pews at church. I would grip my hands tightly together and ask, God, tell me, what did I do wrong? Why am I not that person? Why does she have a boyfriend and I don’t? 

Six years later, I am still asking the question. It isn’t about that particular boy anymore. It was never about that particular boy, or any of the ones that have followed in the pattern of hope and uncertainty, awkwardly flirtatious conversations that always stay just this side of friendship, and hours of journaling about just why it is that they never seem to see in me what I see in them.


I have been on this quest to find the reason, the flaw, the thing about me that’s wrong, the big mistake. I tell myself that if only I knew why they didn’t choose me, I could change it. I ask because I have this desperate belief that some day one of them will have the answer, will tell me the secret to being single, the real reason that I haven’t been kissed in years and the real reason that eyes seem to skip over me.

I have guessed about a million reasons that boys don’t ask me out, or the reason they only see me as a friend when I hope for more. But none of those reasons, however much I speculate, however much I spin out stories about being unworthy or not beautiful enough or smart enough, however long I lie in bed leafing through He’s Just Not That Into You half-heartedly, are an answer. 


To keep reading, click on over here.


Love,

Hilary