Building a House or Building a Home?

On Saturday I went with A lady in my ward, Victoria, and my friend Brittany to a Builders Blitz in Birmingham. It was super hot, but amazingly cool.
I had always wanted to do Habitat for Humanity and so I jumped at the first chance I got to help out a friend and gain some experience. The volunteers there helping were from all over. Though technically, most of them lived on the same block and had just become home owners. There were also a group all the way from Georgia there to help. I met some pretty interesting people, but my favorite is the shark diver.
This woman is an avid adventurer and has been scuba diving with sharks.  I think that's awesome. She is a school teacher who works with at risk kids and when she's not at school, she's out doing some awesome stuff. Bungee jumping, scuba diving, sky diving, ect. That's pretty much how I want to be when I get old. And she wasn't even old! Younger than my mom! But that's how I'd like to be when I'm older.
It was a really awesome experience, building a house. As we were putting up this plastic stuff that goes between the ply wood and the insulation, we were doing a horrible job and we couldn't help but comment on how if this were our house we would want it to be perfect. So we put more effort into making it perfect, working as if we were building our own place.
I kept thinking to myself, whenever I would get tired or frustrated, that this isn't just any house we are building. A real family is moving in to their first home, and that kept me going. I just had to keep telling myself that I wasn't just building a house, I was building a home. There is a difference, ya know. It's something I tell myself when I'm at work during the week. That I'm doing the customer a service and helping out their mind at ease. I'm helping make their house a sanctuary they can come to at the end of the day. I know that sounds dumb, but it keeps me going when I've been scrubbing bathrooms and kitchens all day.
Saturday pretty much killed me. I slept through Sunday, being awake just long enough to get ready for church, drive to church, drive home from church, watch Hell Boy II and then go to FHE. I'd say about... 6 hours in total. The rest was spent sleeping. I really didn't think it would be that bad, but it was. I guess it's just the beginning, because once they start to build Victoria's house behind mine, I'm gonna be there every chance I get. It was definitely an awesome experience and I'm really glad that I got to help out.

Nightmares and Stuff

I've been having nightmares about going back to Rexburg. I don't see it as a sign, but I definitely don't like them. I get very little sleep at night thanks to them and I awake unrefreshed and not ready for work at all.
It started off just normal dreams about walking through campus and meeting up with old friends and classmates. Nothing to frightening.
But then Greg started showing up and that's when they turned from sweet dreams to horrible nightmares.
He was everywhere, at first in the background, just taunting me.
And then he was interacting with my dream-people. It was pretty bad. I hated it. But at least he wasn't talking to me.
That didn't last very long. Suddenly he was talking to me. I don't even remember anything he said to me, but I do know that I woke up with a wet pillow and tear filled eyes. Not much different from my nights after we first stopped talking. It's horrible. I hate it.
And I love it. That's what I hate the most. That a little, tiny, itty-bitty part of me enjoys him intruding in my dreams because it's the only time I ever get to interact with the man that was once my best friend. It's a double sided sword, or something. I hate it and I love it and I hate that I love it. So many contradicting emotions.
I've pretty much decided that I'm going to sleep as little as possible, just to avoid these encounters.
I thought I was done with it. With everything that happened between us. I had hoped and prayed I was passed all of that crap, but I guess some wounds just don't heal properly. I had also hoped work would take my mind off things, but no such luck. I find myself cleaning a bathroom and thinking "what if". I find myself vacuuming and wondering why it fell apart. I guess doing a monotonous job isn't going to help take my mind off anything.
But I'll live. I think...
Now, don't go thinking that I'm still hung up over this boy. Cause I'm not. I guess you could say I'm hung up over my stupid actions and I keep wondering how I could have acted differently or what I could have done to make things not end so badly. But it's all in the past, I guess.
I miss the old me. The me I was before Idaho. When I was still in high school. The me that believed in happily ever after. The me that trusted with out reserve. I miss me. Hopefully some day I can find me again. That would be super awesome.
I think going back to Idaho, despite my fears and worries, will help me find me. I caught a glimpse of that person my first semester before I got tangled up in all that is Greg and lost sight of her. I'm going to try super hard to find her again.
Until then tho, I will trust in the Lord and know that He knows what's going on.