Welcome to my home. Yes, yes, that's the living room. Yup - imported the furniture, 10 grand can you imagine? does he like it? what does that expression mean? Oh, let me show you the kitchen, I'm very proud of the oven. That's my bedroom to my left; yes, I pray there - oh, play the guitar too. There's my library, only fine literature there. Oh and books, yea, I try to read those once in a while - what? oh no, not the bible! Oh yes, just a little dust there. I read my bible every night. Really. quick diversion! Come along now, here's the guest room; I hope you'll be comfortable. I'm sorry it's set at the back here. I didn't think your flight would come in so early. Here, set your bags there, I'll get the sheets and make up your bed. See, the window opens up to the front gardens and - and, oh no, you don't want to go there. Oh that? Na, I keep a few doors locked around the house. It's just - a security precaution. No, of course! Just make yourself at home. Just - you know, those rooms stay private. No, there's nothing important in there; stop asking questions! I - I do my art work there. Yes, I don't like people prying. Come, no more questions, aren't you tired now? Yes, well, I will be turning in soon. If there's anything you need, just knock. please don't. Oh, knock hard, yes? I'm a heavy sleeper. Good night holy spirit.
It always hurts me in the end, when I try to compartmentalize every aspect of my life. My dream to write, paint, draw my desire to travel and be independent my secret passions my moral discussions the friendships I have with my churchmates the thoughts I keep inside the things I promise God the joy I feel with close friends the things that raise my blood pressure the songs I sing along to the friendships I have out in the world.
Is there a need to be different with different people? It's tiring to keep drawing the boundaries. There are so many things I don't understand about myself that keep popping up - God, how could you accept this part of me? I've locked myself into too many rooms, I don't think I can find my way out anymore. My hands are heavy with the keys - they all look the same. I've tried, methodically, then by guesswork, the keys, one by one - this door doesn't open. God, help me breakthrough! I'm drying up in here!
And then, simply, 'the boundaries need to go'. And the walls are gone.
Yes, I can be all this, and still be one Joanne. This is me, the ugly which can be changed and which sometimes remain, and the good, which I don't discover often enough. I may not like all of me, but I can accept it. Because I'm first accepted by him.
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