Everything Eric is going through, I just don’t understand. His casual regard for romance and companionship; I’m all or nothing. He needs the time to heal and move on: two children, a promise broken, infidelity, and a marriage ripped apart. Wounds still fresh. Meat still red, bloody, open to the elements. I may never understand these things he faces each day, this looking in the mirror wondering what went wrong, what he did that made him so undesirable, this “Was it me or her?” This “Is there something I could have done differently?” That’s his past, his demons that haunt in the night when he’s all alone.
Us: so many nails in our coffin from the beginning, sealing our death before we begin. Wisdom and distance drive us apart, and still many nails remain, sealed shut. There is no denying the lack of companionship in a six-hour distance. And a woman who has been with only one man. And what substance could this beginning carry if only through thousands of text messages, hundreds of emails, a few tumbles, and not one long look, not one touch. Fantastical imaginings and wonderings. Potential and novelty. The things that make up exciting beginnings.
When I think of the value, beauty, and true love, true witness that can be shown through my relationship with Steven, I drop everything, run to You, God, and know that Steven is the one. Even though it scares me beyond what I can bear. You alone are good. Steven may not be the easy way out, but through You, he is my way. And with that, there’s just no contest.
