Once an ocean apart and I longed for the days of old – laughter, the nearness of you; our deep discussions, comforting and giving joy to one another.
But now here I am, only a wall away, and it might as well be an ocean; for now remains bittersweetness and irony under painted, nostalgic skies with endless roads of deafening silence; then, pain unsaid, tears unveiled, distant memories. I do not blame you.
A deer was slaughtered under a sharp blade in the dewfall, and I heard its cry of pain echo in the vastness of the land. The countryside. Like the deer, I cried tears of pain from your sharp blade, though perhaps inadvertent. It has slaughtered my soul. I’m down; like that deer I lay here – wet from the rain, wounded, tired. Then, the deer died. Perhaps my trust in you died with it.
The sun peeked from the clouds, blinding me. It dried my tears as it did the rain. And with the sun came acceptance of what is; perhaps we’ve simply grown in our differences; I could say more, you could say more. I could say that I can no longer be myself with you, but let it be just us working on our weaknesses, and perhaps there’s no room for both in a shared world. Now, come what may.
My prayer is that our Mother swaddles you in a blanket of peace in which you will know less sorrow; loss; altercations; but more joy; that you are rich in love; that you receive all that your heart desires. For what it’s worth, I would still give you the world, even if I can’t be in it. I must not be in it, and yet, your happiness is my happiness. Where I have failed, God will succeed. Where I can’t, God can. And He will.
I do not blame you for who are we truly if not for these? For our imperfections? For sometimes, we must lose in order to gain; hurt in order to grow; suffer in order to know. I could say that I wish I never came – for what is a dream at the expense of losing a beloved? Would choosing the other path have preserved what was? Like a broken record, my mind keeps replaying your words like lyrics to a quietly haunting and melancholy tune, wondering what I could’ve done to save us all together; wondering if this was all, somehow, inevitable (in-ev-i-tuh-buh l). Yet, I am who I am and you are who you are. During these thoughts, I repeatedly play these lyrics from The Fray as it resounds my grief:
“Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend somewhere along in the bitterness and I would have stayed up with you all night had I known how to save a life.”
How I wish I knew. The days have become long, my sleep, short. Here I am laughing with a new companion, yet, if I could choose, I long for it to be you. I do not blame you. If there was truth in what was uttered, I pray God will grant me the grace to hear it. Despite how it was said, let me not close my ears; let my aching not make me deaf, but allow me to hear all the clearer. Let your weaknesses not make me weaker, but wiser. Vice versa. And may this wisdom transform.
Like the watercolored mountains that fade into the distance, so, too, must you fade. Even if for now in order to heal. Still, I will love you in prayer, hopeful that Christ who dwells in you will transfigure you. And I pray he will transfigure me. These are tales of saints after all – broken lives made whole and redeemed in their relentless pursuit of heaven. So, I do not blame you.
Forgive me if I’ve hurt you. I, too, am broken, working as hard as I can to be better. More holy. If it is still an unknown grace, may the grace be that you have awakened me into the light; that you have lifted my shadows obscuring the light. Perhaps, in God’s time and if He wills it, our paths will cross again. Maybe as strangers. But certainly as friends in heaven. May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you.
“…we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance, and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.”