Faith-Sowing and reaping and loneliness

There’s an immense pressure to take advantage of every single weekend in the summer. If it’s not jam packed with a BBQ, hiking, the beach, and at least one pool party you’re not living.

Last weekend I didn’t have a lot planned. Ok, basically nothing. Friday night was a Yankees vs. Sox game through Northeastern Alumni. Saturday was bootcamp then a house “cooling” party at night (great idea, by the way! She was moving out). Sunday was literally nothing.

At the YMCA I was consistently friendly with everyone. I had my moments, as it was customer service, but I did pretty well. There was one woman who would come in with Red Sox gear like she worked there. Turns out her husband does. She brought up that they have extra tickets, so we exchanged numbers and I said on the off chance you do call me!

Sunday rolls around, I’m thinking about what to do with my life, and I get a call from her. It’s an hour before the game starts, do you want two tickets? I tell her to give me time to call to friends to find someone to go.

I start texting/calling people and no one can go. In my head I’m thinking “I’m such a loser, I have no friends, should I go anyway because I have nothing else to do? Take advantage of it? Ugh.”

I call her back and accept the tickets. I’m on the train to the game messaging people including people from my dating apps. One offered to come if I’d make a bet with him that if they win we’d have victory sex. Yeah no.

I get brave and post on Facebook about the tickets. What’s everyone going to think? I’m a loser because I have to use Facebook to find someone? Whatever, I guess it’s better than going it alone.

I’m thinking to myself what a loser I am, I should’ve stayed home, why am I on this train, I’ll just go for a couple innings and if I hate it I’ll leave. I can’t believe I was sucked into the peer pressure of needing to take advantage of every moment of the summer.

I get to the park, find the tickets, find my seat. They’re awesome. Behind first base. I sit for a little and keep checking my phone. Now I’m that loser at a baseball game not living in the moment. But alas! A Facebook message. My mentor told me that a couple of our mentors were at the game and that a mutual friend was looking for them in Boston all weekend. So I call him, and he’s almost in NH, about 45 minutes away. In my head I am begging him to turn around, but I try not to show it. He does! He comes to the game and he tracks down our mentors that he has been trying to find ALL weekend.

Because I dared to be lonely, to go and do even when everything was screaming at me not to, I made his dream come true. It was the perfect ending to the perfect weekend.

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