Positively Negative

I find myself desperately trying to hide how negative I am at church so that I can make friends. It has become clear to me that my sweet, pure, and dare I say beautiful form of pessimism clashes with clean, innocent, dare I say naive Christian optimism.
My friend Kyndra, who invited me to this church in the first place, did something that I would never do which is invite someone that I sort of know into a personal space. People know that she invited me, so I have tasked myself with trying to be on my best behavior. For me, I am seeing that this includes not being too honest. My honestly comes from a negative place and as you probably well know, negativity is a virus that spreads through the garden and murders all the roses. I don't want to kill her super sweet, warm, welcoming, and unrealistically encouraging and hopeful friends. I don't want to be the weed in an otherwise healthy flower bed.
Talking to the women in the church is the hardest. They are so nice, yet it is hard not to scream, "What a load!" whenever they speak. A couple of Sundays ago I stood with a tight, manufactured smile as a young woman with a cool, funky haircut named Paula spoke excitedly about how her ex finally deciding to get into church. For her, this was a milestone met on their way to getting back together, becoming "equally yoked" and jumping the broom. I smiled hard as her other friend, we will call her Peggy, listened along excitedly, praising God for the miracle of getting a young Black man into church. That is a miracle, I won't disagree with that.
When Paula finally took a breath, I asked, "What if none of this sticks with him? Are you prepared for that?"
I instantly regretted it. The power drained out of her eyes as if I had unintentionally turned off the lamp in her brain. "What?" she asked confused.
"Holly wants to know if you'd be okay if you two don't get married," Peggy chimed in. That is not what I wanted to know at all.
Paula inhaled, her power coming back on. "That is okay. I am more concerned with him getting saved."
I nodded, smiling so hard at this point that my cheeks were burning. I wanted to tell her that the whole thing smelled like a boy lie. I wanted to tell her that I could see this young man going as far as he felt he needed to before she agreed to sleep with him again. Then he would vanish from the church so fast it would be like he was never there. But that, good friends, would have been the type of honest negativity that makes it so no one wants to talk to you after service. I like after service talks.
As I have said before, I am trying to build a relationship with God and get better with changing my way of thinking. My current thinking is a hard skin to shed, seeing that I credit it with saving me from some decisions that could have been devastating. But being negative can be exhausting and preventative. Maybe one day I too can experience the joy of just knowing without a doubt that things are going to work out. Faith, it's what's for dinner.
Until I get to that point, it is all tight smiles and nods from the peanut gallery, secretly taking solace in being positive that negativity is the way for me, at least for now.