Hurt

Hurt. It’s a word that I don’t like to talk about. Nothing is supposed to be able to hurt me. I serve the Almighty God, Maker of heaven and earth. How dare I feel hurt by mere humans? And yet I do. Sometimes (like now) I just want to curl up in a ball and forget that there are other people in the world. And the stupidest part is that the pain I feel is mostly caused by myself. I set up unrealistic expectations from people and then I’m hurt when they don’t live up to my plans. This summer I got used to certain people never letting me down. But now, the people letting me down are the people I love the most this summer and I don’t know what to do about it. I hurt. They probably don’t even know what they’ve done. In fact, they haven’t even done that much. But what most people don’t realize about me is how very insecure I am. Like extremely insecure. So my friends are talking about something, around me, but not too me. And I freak out because I feel like they don’t trust me enough to tell me. Because apparently, they don’t. And I hurt. My friend, my friend who told my mother that I helped him survive this summer, keeps going back to the friends who ditched him. And I hurt.
When does the knowledge that God is enough reach to the heart? I’ve said it; I know it; I believe it. So why isn’t that good enough? Why do I still hurt?