I am insane . . .
But there’s no way I am not doing it.
:•─.•─:•─.•─:•☾☼☽•:─•.─•:─•.─•:
“Yep. I’m crazy!” I yell.
“You are,” Rachelle laughs behind me. “It’s a good thing we are too.”
I smile over my shoulder at her and Lena. My roommates had carted me off to lunch as soon as they got out of session, where Amias and the triplets ambushed me with worried looks. None of which helped. So when our free time started, I hurried away.
My mind had to freeze.
I look down at the water. It looks like a mini fjord. The sun shines through the trees, trying to pierce the depths of blue darkness. Flowers wave in the gentle wind. Gentle. Dancing.
I enlisted Lena and Rachelle from the lounge before my friends could find me again. And to my surprise, the pair didn’t hesitate. And as they do not know me well enough to pressure me into talking about everything, I feel more comfortable with them than alone.
I take a deep, warm breath. I cross myself (or I try and probably don’t do it right because I’m not Catholic) with false solemnity. And for the second time in two days, I leap off the stone bridge into the freezing water below.
But unlike the first day, I welcome the mind-numbing cold. I embrace the ache in my lungs, and the taste of ice sinking through my skin into my mouth. I burst from the depths, laughing.
“Oh yeah!” I shout. “It’s cold!”
I punch a hand into the air. All of my worries and fears freeze, and I whoop. Free in the arctic water. I whoop again. Lena climbs onto the bridge. She eyes the water for a long moment, then jumps after me.
“That’s cold,” she agrees in a strained voice, breaking through the surface.
Rachelle doesn’t hesitate. She stands on the bridge for a moment and then crashes through the icy water with a squeal.
“Gahahhaahh!” She gasps as her head emerges from the water. “Tarni!”
“What?” I ask between chattering teeth.
“I hate youuu.”
“Well, at least you can boast to your boyfriend that you are braver than he is.”
Rachelle snorts, “I already do that.”
I laugh, “I envy your . . . unique relationship.”
“It’s pretty darn fun.”
“I gathered.”
“And ‘unique’ pretty much sums it up,” Lena chuckles, hugging herself.
“Oh, come on, Lena,” Rachelle flicks water at her.
“I was referring to both of us!” Lena swims out of reach. “Long-distance, best-friends-turned-something-more is pretty unique.”
“Fair.”
I glance between them, “You are both in long-distance relationships? I mean, I knew you were, Lena. But I guess, I never thought about it with Rachelle -.”
“Yup,” Rachelle’s lips turn blue. “For over a year now.”
“Wow. Do long-distance relationships last that long when you’re young?”
“Asking for a particular reason?” Lena gives me a sly glance.
My face heats, but I shake my head.
“Hmm, well, it depends. Long-distance is hard. So really, it will either last a long time because you can push through that. Or a short time, because you can’t,” Lena shrugs. “There are other factors too. It depends on the couple I’d say.”
“Definitely,” Rachelle shivers. “Now, forgive me for being blunt, Tarni. But why did you invite us to this hellishly cold spring?”
Lena frowns and quirks an eyebrow, “‘Hellishly cold?’”
Rachelle stares at her for a second before bursting into laughter.
“I’m trying to distract myself,” I grin and flick a bug off of my arm. “Today has been rough, so I thought numbing my mind before having a hot shower might be the way to go.”
“Brilliant,” Lena’s teeth keep rattling. “Can we get out now?”
“We only just got in,” I eye the bank.
“Yes,” Rachelle says for me.
And with that, our arctic adventure comes to a close.
Chapter Nine: Luke
For several days, I quest to distract myself from my problems and stupidity. All of my friends notice the change. Maya even pulls me aside one day and asks why I am trying to retreat from everyone else.
Times like these make me wonder which side of me is more foolish; my mind or my heart. Because in my head, I reason my friends’ opinions don’t make right or wrong. And in my heart, I argue I’m the one who has been wrong all along.
But, my quest has little success. My heart beats wildly whenever I am around Amias. My friends and I stay up late with deep conversations. And I am spinning around in a circle wishing pointlessly for a way out, but I have doomed myself to hurt. All I can do is control the damage and distract myself.
Thankfully, plenty of distractions appear at camp.
“Come on. We are so late!” I growl.
“Sorry,” Abi fusses with her skirt. “I thought I had enough time after breakfast to do my makeup, and didn’t watch the clock.”
“My bad too,” Genevieve pats Abi’s shoulder. “I was taking too long of a shower.”
“I would be more willing to accept your apologies if I weren’t certain it is only going to happen again,” I heave my eyes to the sky.
If I am fair, it was my fault too. While trying to reach Everly and Adam (again), I forgot to check the time. And then I looked up and saw we should have been in session five minutes ago.
Thus, here I am, tugging along my two dawdling friends.
“Drew is going to be so worried about you,” I sigh to Abi.
“Oh shut up, Tarni Bird. Just because you are mad at me, doesn’t mean you get to tease me,” Abi crosses her arms, but she can’t hide her glowing face.
“Jeez,” Genevieve shakes her head. “All we have to do is mention the boy, and she turns into a jack o’ lantern.”
“A jack o’ lantern?” Abi shudders. “Don’t compare me to that. Besides, I can’t visibly blush.”
“Well, does a glow-worm suit your taste better?”
“I think no comparisons would be nicest, thank you very much.”
“Have you and Drew ‘talked’ yet?” I glance back at her.
“Umm,” Abi’s face glows brighter. “No. I hope we will soon because it’s a little confusing, but we want to see how serious things are. He asked me to pray about it, and I know he’s doing the same so . . .”
She shrugs and scratches the back of her neck. Genevieve holds a hand over her heart.
“You guys are too cute. I can’t.”
“You forget your blooming romance, Genevieve,” I hold open the lobby door.
She snorts, “We talk, he’s cute, but I doubt it will last beyond camp. I don’t like him that much.”
“Keep your voice down,” Abi hisses as we step into the lounge.
Jeff doesn’t look up or pause as he prays over the session. Another leader does and gives us a wink. She gestures to seats at the back of the group. We cautiously sit down. I wince when my chair squeaks.
“Amen,” Jeff finishes and meets our gazes. “Glad you could join us, girls.”
“Sorry,” Abi and I chorus.
He waves off our apology, turning on the video. I pull my legs onto the chair with me and rest my chin on my knees. Amias glances back at me. He waves. I wave back, smiling despite myself.
“This is an age of identity issues,” the video speaker says. “And this is not limited to Western cultures. Followers of Jesus, the world over, have agonized over their identity. They struggle with reconciling who their culture, family, or friends tell them to be with the God who calls their hearts.”
I tilt my head and rub my tired eyes.
“We have talked about how insecurities can undermine our identity. We have talked about ways we can put our identity in things other than Jesus. But now, I want you to think about how your life could change if you threw off your old ways of seeing the world and yourse
lf. If you can shut your eyes for a moment . . .”
I shut my eyes.
“Picture Jesus,” the voice says. “Picture him with the scars in his hands. And picture yourself.”
The image of a broken, small, sniveling, fluffy-haired girl aches from my bones. She clings to her phone for her friends. Tears, gunk, and acne mar her face. Pathetic. Moron. Needy.
“Who sees you like this?” The voice asks. “Your parents? Your culture? Your friends? People who have bullied you? Maybe those you have hurt?”
I swallow hard, confused. Who does see me like this? Who has undermined my worth? Me. It’s all me. I’m just an idiot who clings to the messed up things she’s done and said to herself. I bite the inside of my cheek. Anger and hopelessness wash over me.
“Is it how Jesus sees you?”
I stare at the little broken girl with my glasses, hair, and skin. Her scarred face. Her scarred body of sin. The way she clings to her friends like they are a drug.
“If you see your sin, Jesus doesn’t. If you see your greatness, Jesus doesn’t. Jesus sees the arrogant one’s true heart—which is as broken as everyone else’s. Jesus sees the broken mended, lifted.”
My throat aches. I bury my face in my knees. My heart longs for that picture. For the real one. Or is it real? Am I the proud one? I forget God amid my own pain and hold on to my friends instead of him. Am I deceiving myself?
The video continues, but I don’t open my eyes. I watch my vision-self wrap herself in chains. I watch her bury herself in muck. I watch her scream as she is tugged by shadows, and sob when they dissipate for a moment. Through it all, she clings to her phone—to her friends—like they will care. Like they can save her.
The phone explodes, leaving burns and scars all over her body. She holds herself, weeping uncontrollably.
Tears burn the real me’s eyes. I swallow hard. Is this my future? Is this my past? Am I just being overdramatic?
The video ends. I open my eyes and stand. No one says a word. We divide into our groups and walk outside, still silence. Maya—in my group again—throws her arm over my shoulders.
“Are you all right?” She whispers.
Everyone asks that these days, even myself.
I look towards the ocean, “I don’t know.”
And for once, I speak the truth.
:•─.•─:•─.•─:•☾☼☽•:─•.─•:─•.─•:
One thing is clear; I am overthinking everything.
I bounce my leg and stare at the sand beneath my feet. I clutch my journal’s binding so tight I wonder if it will recover. The ocean waves crash through my head, and my heart tightens with each one. My fingers click my pen. Again. Again. Again.
I want to write, but the weight in my gut spreads to my fingertips. Every word feels like a fingernail torn from my skin. I relax my shoulders, but they tighten back to my ears.
“I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about what’s bothering you?”
I turn. Drew walks towards me, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Unfortunately, I don’t even know what is bothering me,” I manage a tight smile. “And I’m pretty sure I don’t want to find out.”
He nods and sits beside me. We look out at the ocean.
“It’s so bright,” I murmur. “I wish it would rain. I could be the dramatic teen girl in a coming-of-age film, watching raindrops trace down the windowpane. With sad music.”
“I could spray your windows for you,” Drew offers generously.
“I just might take you up on that,” I tug my hair out of my face.
We fall silent again.
“When did things get so complicated?” I gaze at the distant islands of the Mediterranean.
“I have no idea what you are referring to, but it was the moment you were born,” Drew pats my shoulder. “Life isn’t meant to be comfortable or easily understood. Nor are we.”
“I know. But I wish I wasn’t such a mystery to myself,” I grind my face in my hands.
“Relatable,” he laughs.
“Every time I think I’ve learned something new about myself, it turns out I’m either being overdramatic or stupid. Or I’m right, but doubting myself.”
“You are always going to doubt yourself. That’s why you’ve got to count on a voice that drowns out all the others.”
“I know,” I lift my head. “But I haven’t heard God speak to me in ages. When he does, it doesn’t change . . . anything.”
Drew nods, looking at the sand. “There are many things that screen our ability to listen. And the hardest to get rid of are the ones that make sense. Pain. Grief. Shame.”
I bite my lip. The last five months had been full of all of those, and guilt from before that. Some mornings, shame crushes my chest so harshly moving hurts.
“How do you get rid of it?” I whisper.
“By trusting you can’t. You let it go and trust it will move without your effort.”
“Really?”
“Our strength never moves anything, Tarni.”
I lean back, drumming my fingers on my journal, “I’m not sure I know how to let go either.”
“Then start praying, my friend,” Drew looks at my journal. “Can I have that?”
“What are you going to do with it?” I clutch it tighter.
“I’m just going to add something to the front.”
I hesitate a moment, then hand it over. Drew takes a pencil out of his pocket. He scratches out the “Happy” in “Think Happy Thoughts” and puts “Hopeful.”
“Happy is a feeling. Hope is a belief,” he passes my journal back over.
I eye the new cover. I take my blue pen and add color to Drew’s pencil.
“Now, it’s perfect,” I smile up at him. “Thank you.”
“Sure thing. You keep your head up, Tarni Bird. You are more needed than you think.”
“ . . . how did you know to say that? I mean, how did you know I feel . . . unnecessary?” I look away.
“Call it an astute guess,” Drew licks his lips and sighs. “Or maybe it’s just that I’ve felt the same way.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re human? Because I’m a kid with a heart broken by goodbyes and the foolish words of others? When we put our identity in anything other than Jesus, we feel less than. And without him, we are,” he points to the sky.
I look up to see the vast blue. Then I gaze ahead, marveling at a darker, deep blue. Blue, green, and yellow. Nature’s finest.
“Thank you, Drew,” I repeat. “Though, I still don’t know what’s bothering me.”
“You’ll find out at some point.”
We fall silent again. I set my journal and pen on the sand beside me.
“So. You and Abi still haven’t talked.”
“You are such a girl,” he rolls his eyes. “You can’t talk to me without bringing Abi up.”
“Thank you. I’m a good friend to my roommate.”
“Yeah, yeah. Well . . . I don’t know how to talk to her about it. We’re young. And we’ve only been friends for a few weeks. It feels silly to say anything,” he wrinkles his nose.
“Aren’t you both a year older than me?”
“Fifteen is not even beginning to be grown. We’re kids who barely know what crushes are. And have years ahead before we understand love.”
I laugh, “No one understands love. It’s too complicated.”
“Fair,” he gives me a sly glance. “What about you and Amias?”
My mouth drops, and Drew chuckles.
“You thought no one knew? You are a romantic, Tarni. There’s no way you could hide that.”
I shake my head, “I just hoped I could be subtle enough to . . . I don’t know.”
“Tarni, you are one of my best friends at this conference. But ‘subtle’ is one of the last words I’d use to describe you.”
I grimace and turn away.
“It’s not a bad thing,” Drew tilts his head.
“I’m loud, overdramatic,
and overwhelming,” I rub my hands on my jeans. “Which is one of the reasons I don’t want to have a crush on Amias. I don’t know if he likes me back -.”
Drew snorts, “I promise you -.”
“And I don’t want to know,” I hold up a hand. “It doesn’t matter. Once people get to know me, they don’t want me anymore. Except for my best friends, but we’ve been friends so long they are kinda obligated to like me.”
“Tarni . . . do you believe that?”
“You don’t know me well enough to deny it.”
“I know you pretty darn well,” Drew crosses his arms. “And you’re one of the most fun people I know.”
I give him a look, “Fun? Me? I’m not Genevieve or Maya. Heck, Abi is ten times more entertaining than me.”
“So? You are your own kind of fun,” he draws in the sand. “But I’m not going to convince you.”
“Nope.”
“Shame.”
I stare out at the ocean. We are silent for a long moment.
“I want to be a bolder version of myself,” I whisper. “I want to be myself. But, again, I’m overwhelming. I don’t think that will change enough for me to be comfortable.”
“And we’re back to point A. Life isn’t about being comfortable. Besides, Jesus sees you perfectly and loves you. If he loves you as you, you don’t need to hide or worry about what anyone else thinks. Like in the video, right?”
I purse my lips, “I am pretty sure Jesus is the only one who could really see me and love me, though.”
“Same with the rest of us,” Drew ground his knuckles into my head. “So. Stop. Being. Mean. To. Tarni!”
“Ow! Watch the hair!”
“Tarni! Drew!” Brynn calls.
We look up. I fuss with my hair, giving Drew a look.
“It’s time for dinner,” she walks across the sand, scowling at her trainers. “You don’t want to be late.”
“No, we don’t,” Drew leaps to his feet. “Isn’t there a movie playing tonight?”
Brynn nods.
“Great! I’m gonna see if Abi will go with me,” his face turns pink, despite his casual tone.
“If she doesn’t, everyone will be shocked and gossip for days,” I pick up my journal and pen.
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