I pursued what I loved, but was unwanted by what I pursued. You enticed me with mystery and truth, noble pursuits of the highest kind. You dangled a deeper kind of knowing before me. I remember how you offered sacred wonders and rituals of the strangest sort. How could I refuse? How does one deny the chance to probe into divinity itself?
Was it all a show? A cruel charade of chasing shadows and ghosts. I invested much time in following shades believing I was growing closer, happier, fulfilled. And I invested time, years of my time, into this pursuit in hopes that something might come of it.
You led me along. Achievement seemingly always within my grasp. I think you must’ve enjoyed this perpetual wandering you put me through. Long ago I crossed a barrier and went too far into your depths. Several degrees in my closet testify to that fact. Now I’m unable to find my way out. I don’t want your mysteries anymore, I’ve had enough of your veiled ceremonies and vague sacramentalities. I grow tired of impractical metaphysics and cumbersome metaphors. Release me so that I might find something useful, needed, helpful.
What do I have to show of my pursuits? Thoughts without purpose. Ideas without application. Skills without means. Texts without readers. No, I lived up to my side of the bargain. I pursued you with all my being, my purpose I poured out to you. And in return? Silent rejection of my pursuit of you.
I’ve chased theological ghosts for most of my life. I’ve studied them, tried to learn about them. Along the way I hoped for an answer, a revelation of the old sort. Confirmation that I was on the right path. But every trail went cold, every race was lost, and every path was a dead end. And at each point I waited for you to speak, to encourage, to validate. It never came.
Was my pursuit, my love of you, in vain? After all this time I still hope and desire for your call. When chasing ceases and acknowledgement begins. Even now, I find myself drawn again, compelled to try again one more time. The hope that this moment, this pursuit, will be different. That my dream of you would be fulfilled. But I fear it will not be. I fear my pursuit will again lead to naught, confirming my unwanted pursuit.