Spiritual Warfare: No. 1

Be warned. I’m probably going to come up as “stupid” because it’s like, “Allex. What are you doing, still putting yourself through this bull honky?” Truthfully, I have no clue. I think if I DID know, it probably would’ve stopped.

So for now, excuse my, err.. “rant.”


It seems to me that temptation always creeps around the corner when I come to think about the situation that I’ve endured for over a year. With the intensity and events of years past, it seems prolonged, and therefore, I don’t equate it to a year. But that is besides the point. This is probably one of the things that gets me the most. Riles me up the most. Throws me off the most. Whenever I’m finally content with life and I feel as if I’m getting on the right track, ‘he’ always finds his way into my mind. The friendship. The relationship. And in general, the memories.

So, what’s wrong with that? Why is it spiritual warfare, as I call it?

Because: I am a warrior for God. And as corny as that sounds, and as many times as I’ve tried pushing that away, I can’t. It’s inevitable that being a fighter is part of me, and now that another battle is nearing, I can’t have this distraction eating at me constantly. Every now and then, I reminisce on how “good” things were and how “happy” I was, but then I transition to thinking about how deranged the whole thing was and I become so angry just thinking about it again and it scares me. I continue to hold grudges and spew words of hate under my breath and I continue to be jealous or bitter over asinine things that I shouldn’t even mull over because it’s just plain foolishness.

And I know that. I’ve been told that a countless number of times and I’m pretty sure I’ve even told myself that. But nope; my caring nature tells me otherwise, and I continue to dwell on whatever has happened. And it sucks because as I try to pray and ask for guidance, a random image of “that last kiss goodnight” or holding hands on a numbing day in February or silly, childish coquette pops into my head and I’m seized from my state of spirituality to find myself wondering how things could’ve been. I tell myself it wasn’t even anything, really. But then I miss it all over again. And then I question it all over again. And then I try to figure it out again. And soon, I hate it all over again.

Lies. Filth. Deceit. Excuses. Cowardice. Inconsideration. So irresolute. So stubborn. So … UGH. The abhorrence consumes me; this twisted “hate” I have for a single person, and I ask … “Why?”

But if course I know. The “Man Downstairs” is trying to reach me, in attempt to take me away from all I have come to believe in. He tries to tell me that this hate should always live inside me, because I DESERVE to be mad. And at times, I feel like he’s right because I have so many questions left unanswered.

But then again, that’s just how things are.

So.. Spiritual warfare.

I will continue to fight this battle, as the struggle to love one’s neighbor is a struggle at its finest. Even though it’s particularly difficult for me to let go, I have to try to forgive, simply because that’s what I’m called to do and simply because I know that will be my source of peace.

But for now, as derisory as it seems, this is probably one of the biggest things I struggle to overcome.

However, I’ll get there. Eventually.


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