Yep. It’s that time again.

I’m 22 years old today. Yesterday, (being Wednesday), we had a staff dinner at my church. I got birthday cards from the staff and one of my coworkers, and an angel who won’t be named right now (no, not Laura) made me a cherry pie. It was delicious. So far, this birthday is off to a pretty good start.

It is strange to think back, to recall that just one year ago, I had a girlfriend who came to see me. One year ago, I didn’t really know what love was. One year ago, I was happy.

It is amazing to realize how much I’ve grown and changed just in the past year. I’m almost an entirely different person, yet me. One year.

One.

And it has been the most difficult year of my life. I have a feeling it just gets harder from here on out.

I have begun composing my final literary work to Laura, informing her of why I have to let go of her completely. It’s going to be hard, I’m sure; I do not have the benefit of a heart overflowing with love as I did the last letter. This one instead is drenched in sorrow, and every stroke of the keyboard is a great effort. Wish me luck.

 Why? Because, Grace Kelly was gorgeous. And I needed to cheer myself up. I’m out.

So I thought, heck, wouldn’t it be nice to send an email to King Abdullah II and Queen Rania of Jordan and tell them what a good job they are doing? So I did last night. This morning, I get a reply. In it I was personally assured that my letter would reach Their Majesties. How exciting is that? Not nearly as exciting as the fact that they ended the reply with, “Would you be so kind as to provide us with your full mailing address?”

Flippin’ sweet. How cool would it be to get a letter from them? VERY cool.

I saw Laura today for the first time since she dropped me off at my dorm on Labor Day. There I was, just about to walk into the auditorium for praise and worship, my hair back in a ponytail, my beard trimmed, shirt, tie, the works. Truthfully, I probably looked my best since… well, since prom or something. I don’t know.

Suddenly there she is, dressed simply in a blue shirt and tan pants (I think… I was looking at her face). The startled look on her face when I said, “Hello,” at once shattered and healed my heart. The poor creature looked exhausted but managed to smile and chat ever so briefly before entering and melting into the crowd. I could still see her, far across the balcony and at times, peripherally, I saw her look at me.

The longing and saddness I saw, (though I do not know for certain if it was, truly, there), was breathtaking.

Why do we torture ourselves like this? It has been made clear as to my love for her. If she wants to be with me… why does she put herself through this? I am near giving up, for good, on this cause. It is too painful.

Imagine having cancer not just because it suddenly appeared, but because you chose to have it. Not some skin tumor or something easy. I’m talking a deep, expansive, vicious cancer. Imagine choosing that for yourself. That’s what I feel like every day. The mere thought of her slows my heart from the average beat to a slow, painstaking drum… drum… drum. Communication with her has been sparse as well. Her voicemail, thus far, has not been active, nor has she answered her phone. Emails have gone unreturned, save for just moments ago when she emailed a short apology. She felt that she had been rude by being so brief and unaccomodating to me, but I understood that she had company and an apology was completely unnecessary. She also commented that I “looked very nice.”

Never have words on a computer screen looked so sweet to me. I’m not letting my hopes get too high, though, unless she outright informs me that this is all just too difficult to maintain and that she needs me back in her life.

Think that’s funny? Well, I’m full of them.

On a COMPLETELY different note, I just recently decided that Her Majesty Queen Rania of Jordan is, quite possibly, one of the most incredibly beautiful women in the world. She even seems like a truly good and noble woman too.

 *sigh*……………..

Yep. Enough of my fantasizing. Goodnight.

What a beautiful picture.

This weekend was enjoyable… my friend Andrew and I went to my house Friday night and watched my hometown’s varsity football team kick another team’s butt 50-0 (or thereabouts). After that we decided to enjoy the lovely evening and went down to the creek to talk about stuff. Full moon, crystal clear skies, running water below. Very productive discussions.

But, dammit, if I didn’t wish that Laura was there instead of him. (No offense to my friend; his company was most enjoyable). So many moments pass through my life like a ghost down an empty hall, vanishing as quickly as it comes. I wish she were there by my side for every one of them so I could share the beauty inherent in those precious moments with her. Sunsets, the way the clouds are arranged in the sky, the way the light spills over the fields, or the silly things our dogs do. I want to share those moments with her, give her the memory of them, and pray that when they are so fondly remembered, I might be but a fondly reminisced speck somewhere in the honeycomb of her mind.

But she can’t. Not now, perhaps never. That “perhaps” breaks my heart so thoroughly I wonder if it will ever mend fully, like an old war wound that aches until the day you die.

My appetite is slowly making its way back to ravenous after being extremely fickle these past few weeks. My cold, one I’ve had since mid-August or so and almost defeated, has been resurfacing but is starting to tone down again. One of my two lost toenails is growing back.

I still can’t sleep well. I cry nearly every night, though it is departing more and more from weeping and entering more into the realm of soft sobbing. Either way, I still have to force myself to go to everything the next day. Class. Church. Room. The times vary, but the places don’t. Though I find sanctuary in my church, though I find peace and comfort, there are times when my peer minister duties steal that away and it is in those moments I am most miserable. Thankfully I have good friends here, one in particular has adopted me as her big brother and she my little sister. She is my saving grace, and for that grace I will be ever grateful.

I feel at times selfish for unloading the burdens of my soul on her, for asking her to spend time with me. But without her, I would surely go mad in my solitude. I do hope she realizes I would do the same for her, for I know that she too has her own heavy heart to bear. Perhaps that is what makes us such good friends; we are slowly healing from the same wound. Regardless, she has my eternal thanks, and she knows exactly who she is.

Sorry for the rant.

Shortly before things on September 1st took an ugly turn, I was typing up my thoughts on the matter of being a priest or loving Laura. To recap what eventually happened, I started proposing to Laura that perhaps we should just be friends, and perhaps I should pursue the priesthood. (Notice that keyword- perhaps). After that short, hypothetical statement she became very upset and left hours later under the assumption that a love between us was impossible. Two days later I walked/hitchhiked to her house to clarify, before it was too late. After another discussion, we resolved to start over as friends, to build that foundation of friendship and IF, SOMEDAY, we fall in love again, she would not be opposed to it.

   I thought it would be interesting for you all to read some of my thoughts, to see what was in my brain just minutes before she arrived on that fateful day. I hope you will kind of see where I was starting to lean: serve God AND be with Laura. If God is as big as I think He is, surely there is room for both He and her in my heart:

1) Do the inner movements that I feel–for or against a choice–stem from my love for God or from some other source, for example, selfishness?

I feel that the feelings motivating me towards serving God come from my strong desire to serve God according to His will for me. I want to follow His path, whatever it might be, even if it leads me somewhere that I do not want to go. Now that I think about it, I don’t feel that it is so much a choice between Laura or the Jesuits, but it is the challenge of accepting God’s will and loving Laura enough to accept her choice. All this time I really have only been waiting to know her heart, so that I may subsequently be allowed to be with her in sharing that heart, or that I may continue along the Jesuit path I feel God is calling me to. I am not, however, allowing her to choose my path for me, though I do feel that her feelings on the matter should and will directly impact the path I will take. If she has a great love for me, that is something God has instilled in her and it is something I should consider deeply, not turn away from. Love is a God-sent gift and grace, and if present it should be acknowledged, not ignored; cherished and not despised; celebrated and not kept silent. There are many kinds of love, but it all stems from God. To explore all the love in our lives and interpret the purpose for which God has created it should be a top priority in anyone’s life. Throughout the past several months, I have strongly felt that it was right and necessary to consider the possibility that Laura loved me and delay my decision on whether or not to join the Society. To make that decision without considering her heart would be unfair and foolish.

Unfair because she is a dear friend, and those we build our lives upon are those that hold us up. When making a decision that will change our own life, we must consider the impact it will have on those who care about us. Our lives are not our own. They belong firstly to God, who blesses us with them from our very creation. They also belong, in part, to those who care for us. We are as much a gift from God to them as they are to us, and I feel it is necessary to honor that gift by considering how our own choices will affect them.

Foolish because a decision such as this reaches far beyond ourselves. A truly God-involved decision involves, firstly, God, whom encompasses all things. Our thoughts and decision-making processes should as well attempt to consider all possibilities; options and well as consequences. In my own case, if I were to choose to enter the Society based solely on my own strong feelings, I could lose Laura as a friend. She might be so deeply hurt by my blatant refusal of her own gift of love that she may not have the courage or capacity to be with me any more. To lose such a precious and God-given gift would be a terrible loss that I am not willing to accept at this point. In being one of me dearest friends, Laura has in fact helped me strengthen and deepen my faith in a God that loves us and rejoices in our happiness. She has comforted me in times of despair and provided graceful insight when I had lost my way. Her faith in Christ has helped inspire the same within me, and to foolishly risk losing that grace in my life would feel, to me, a great sin indeed. Those who bring us closer to Christ should be kept closer to our hearts. To separate them from us without good reason would separate us further from Christ and lead us to sin.

 

So you can see, especially after reading these last few lines, why I did something so crazy as to walk the interstate to her house. I knew what I wanted, though possibly too late. Time will tell, though.

I walked 27.3 miles to see her.

   How does one properly beg forgiveness?

The road shimmered with heat and toxic sweat,

The sun beat down on me like an abusive lover, hurting me

Because it knows better.

 

I looked at my feet under an overpass.

   To receive, one must first give.

Angry blisters throbbed and bubbled, my

Soul lay prostrate in the face of my pain.

Yet, I walked on.

 

I hitchhiked for the first time in my life to see her.

   One must humble oneself before God.

I had walked over halfway, and my water

Was gone. For twenty minutes I rode with strangers

Until they left me.

 

I limped slowly to her door, dying.

   A great sacrifice must be made.

She, an angel, tended me, cared for my

Wounds. Behind her eyes lay a sadness born of

My stupidity.

 

I healed inside her home, upon her bed.

   A lesson must be learned.

Though welcome there, a stranger am I.

She smiles, but I see only teeth.

No want.

 

The next day it rained inside and out.

   Then, our sins are forgotten.

The sun broke the clouds, the birds rejoiced,

All was well but my heart.

Ninety degrees out.

 

So cold.

I was going to update, but everything I typed just vanished. I can’t do anything right. Hopefully I can at least figure out how to sleep. Goodnight.

I have never been more heartbroken over

anything

in my entire life.

Ever made a mistake, realized it was one, and tried to make things right but were too late?

 

 

Thursday, when I talked to Laura, I suggested we should just be friends, and perhaps I should indeed pursue priesthood. Why did I do this?

Because for the last several months, every effort I made to discover her feelings for me revealed nothing. She hid her feelings behind a wall so I wouldn’t find them. Why?

She didn’t want to influence my journey and decision. She didn’t want to get in God’s way.

Oh but she prayed. She prayed that it would be God’s will for us to be together.

On Thursday, I said the things I said thinking this was what she wanted, for us only to be friends, and I decided that I would do the most service to God as a priest. I felt that it was what I was best suited for, now that I finally accepted the “fact” that Laura did not want to be with me.

What followed that was two hours of her weeping. Every tear that fell broke my heart further and further until, now, it is only a quivering lump of weak flesh dripping with lethargic blood.

After she left my room, I began to wonder if I had made a good decision. The next day I realized that I had not. I made the decision for her, not for myself. I SHOULD have told her my heart’s deepest desire, I SHOULD have told her that I loved her too much to give her up, I SHOULD have told her that though God was calling me to serve Him, He never specified that I should be a priest, and NEVER demanded that I give her up. But I refrained from doing so because everything she had previously communicated though silence and general avoidance of discussing the matter made me think that she did not want me in any other capacity than friendship.

Friday I decided that I had to act. Soon. So, with the assistance of a good friend I purchased some supplies and on Saturday morning I began what was to be a forty-mile walk to her home. I wanted the time and pain to think about how horrible it was to do that to her, how foolish both of us were and are, and to pray about what to do. I thought that pushing myself to do something difficult and placing my whole life and well-being in God’s hands would be a good start along the path to redeeming myself in her eyes.

I made it to the small town of Brandon when I ran out of water. I had tried to refill at various houses along the way, but no one was home. So I hitchhiked from there to the exit that lead to her house. I walked the remainder of the way, finding one blessed soul that gave me water.

When I finally arrived at her house I dropped my heavy pack and limped to her front door. I pushed the doorbell and held onto the stair rail so I wouldn’t collapse. When she opened the door all strength left me and I wrapped my arms around her feet. I was barely able to tell her that I loved her, and that I was sorry.

She realized it was me and helped me into a chair, putting my feet up and removing my shoes. I think I was close to some sort of shock, or maybe just chronic exhaustion. I was sweating profusely and shaking in my weakness, and she brought me ice water.

When my strength somewhat returned to me, I told her that I had walked over twenty miles and hitchhiked to come tell her how sorry I was and how much I loved her before she had enough time to change her mind about me.

She replied, “Jake, let’s not do this right now. Let’s just be happy that you are here.”

The weekend went on, and her family welcomed me like I was part of it. They cared for me, and Laura gave me her room to stay in. Though it all sounds perfect, it wasn’t. I could tell that Laura was upset that I had come at all, and if I could have walked back I would have left in the middle of the night. But my feet were so wounded with blisters that I could barely limp from place-to-place within her home.

After the weekend was done, I rode back with her to Cedar Falls. On the way, I asked her if she was upset with me, and she was, and then began a dialogue that rode the edge of a knife during its entire length.

I went into detail as to why Thursday was a mistake, why it never should have happened, and pointed out the reasons why I said the things I said. She responded with the reasons she refrained from telling me how she felt, and also informed me that she was past Thursday and she was ready to move on with her life. During the discussion she came so close to asking me to stop imagining the possibility to be with her but, praise God, she never did. I just know that being together is something she still wants, deep down, but she just isn’t ready to be in such a relationship.

She said that she just wants to start over with her life, and I asked if I could start over with her. She said yes.

We agreed to just be friends, nothing more, for now. IF in the future we arrive at this same place, if we again find that we love each other truly and deeply, she would not be opposed to it.

So there is where we stand. We are friends, and I promised, swore that a friend is all I will be for her for now. I just truly hope this isn’t a case of the “let’s just be friends” and then she avoids me for the rest of her life. I’ve been there before and it is so painful. But I don’t think Laura is like that. We will be friends, and I told her not to feel like she needs to run from me any more.

When she brought me back to my dorm room I realized that both of us had some growing to do before we would be ready for even the possibility of being together. God had broken the both of us so we could start new, start right, so He could heal and reshape us into what He wants us to be. Maybe in a month, a year, several years we will end up together. Maybe during our friendship we will realize that we aren’t meant for each other, but we are also very happy in just being friends. Either way, she is still a part of my life and for that great gift, I am eternally grateful.

If it weren’t so late I’d tell you all why my weekend was so difficult.

After class I’ll update. But I promise it ends sorta happyish. In a way.