On the path that diverges from this one, we’re happy, and it just kind of makes me want to cry through tonight.  I might just do that anyway.

I refuse to believe that there isn’t some good way to still love you.  Still looking for that piece that’s not totally selfish, or, at least, not God-centered.  I don’t want to hold people hostage to this.

And I know that somehow this was the best for me and you and her.  It’s hard for me to believe.  If taking away some sort of idol was required in God’s plan, then why couldn’t He have chosen me?  Oceans of God’s word could crash around me, but acceptance and breaking comes slow.  How could I ever accept that you were taken at all, even for the smallest part, for my sake?

It sounds silly… knowing how far you’ve surely come by now, how could I desire to keep you here?  And when I do reach you, how stupid will it sound when I tell you that you were robbed too soon; that you missed out on so much?

When the waters do finally take me, and I’m crushed and sifted, what will be found?  Don’t let it be just a memory twisted by time and position.  Don’t let it consume me.  Please.  Help me be happy for you today; my sister’s life fulfilled; a broken love that points to the one who heals.

I want to remember you for you, and quit the dream.

I love you because each time I spoke to you it was new and refreshing.  It’s like there was another whole world that I could explore where no one had ever set foot.  I love you because I could never get tired of listening to you and doing things for you, and how you seemed to be a limitless supply of energy, for yourself and me.

But that shouldn’t surprise you.  I hate to say it, but there were girls before you and girls after you – guys, too – who could probably make me feel the same way.  Maybe not to your extreme, but along the same path.

What sets you apart is this:

When I thought of how I could fully describe how I felt about you, I thought of a broken-down one-bedroom apartment.  I thought of you.  In the morning, in a kitchen that was once white, you stood, turned away from me and holding a baby and gently twisting your body back and forth.  I opened the bedroom door, walked up to you, wrapped my arms around you and said, “I love you, Mom.”  Then I bent to kiss you on the cheek and we lingered there, half dancing.

That’s how I love you.

Better late than never.

I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long. I haven’t written anything, and maybe I forgot. I couldn’t stand feeling so alone. I’m ashamed right now and want to hide even though I know you see me all the time and know me. There’s something more that I don’t have. I’m not the same person I was the last time I spoke to you.

But today someone talked to you for me, just to start me up again. I’d say I love you, but I don’t think I do, yet. I’d say I want to go to church, but I don’t think I do. It’s not that simple, anymore. Give me a reason and make it easier. Make me want to do it this time. Don’t let me fall down again!

~From the Anna Archive

Could you edit a couple papers for me?  Please?  I’ll email them to you soon.  Let me change a few things so I don’t look like a complete idiot.

My devo today was on the first chapter of Ruth.  I’m moving all over the place, but it was really good.  I think it was in here because of commitment.  One of the questions it asked in the end was how life would be different.  Like if you were for some reason to be gone from my life, would I try to go back and live like I did before?  That was really tough for me to answer because so many things have changed!  I’m in New York, I’m going to have a baby in the spring.  I think it was trying to say that Ruth had been changed for the better when she was with her husband and Naomi.  She came to know God and even though she was a foreigner when worse came to worse she stuck with her convictions.  She stuck with Naomi out of loyalty to God.  Will I stay with God when you aren’t around?

It’s very relevant though!  Circumstances have us apart for this semester even though it is probably going to be very tough.  I know you’re always there for me, but I feel alone sometimes.  Am I going to stick with God?  When someone says it will be easier if I do it another way, am I going to listen to them or remember what I committed to?  Promise that you’ll keep me going.

~From the Anna archive.

At the end of the camp, many of us wanted to stay in contact and gave away personal email addresses.  I was still back in the dark ages, so I had to give away my parents’.  Upon returning home, I immediately set up my own personal address.  It felt so cool.  “Hoppy,” unfortunately, is a common nickname for all beings Hopkins, and I had to add numbers, so my moniker was my nickname and the last four digits of my cell phone number.

I still keep in touch with a couple people from that camp… in fact, pretty much only the international people.  Japan, South Africa, New Zealand…

Then I went to hurdle camp.  And you were there.  You were the first person with whom I shared the Gospel.  Crazy the coincidences, aren’t they?  And then I gave you my email address after it was all over.

And then you had to create your own. 

And you took the mispronunciation of your name and capped it off with four numbers eerily similar to mine.  Just to mess with me.

Believe me, it did.  I actually slowly leveled off our email conversations because I felt guilty – I already had a girlfriend at the time.  Maybe we both realized that any kind of relationship – friendship, romantic, or even discipleship – wasn’t very practical over 250 miles.  So once a day turned into once a week, then a couple times a month, then during important events like birthdays and finals.

I really wish I could have done more and been there for you during those long years.  But I am glad I went out on a limb and asked for your home address to send you a support letter.  That single act probably changed my life.

I miss you.  I’m going to post some of your stuff every once in a while.  I don’t think you’ll mind.

~Me

Stephen

It wasn’t so many years ago (the age divided by two plus seven rule does not work).  It wasn’t in the park that first day.  It wasn’t when I blurted “I love you” for the first time.  It wasn’t that rather eventful night.  It wasn’t when I brought you the flowers and it wasn’t when you lit that park bench by candles.

It was on the day about you.  Ironically, it was the happiest day of my life.  You remember it, don’t you?  Maybe not all of it, so I’ll tell you again.

That morning, you called me and your tone told me something was wrong.  I panicked when you said, “Don’t panic.”  Ten minutes after entering your house and going to your room, I was trying to fill my head with good thoughts; memories when people said that I would make a good father.

And then our hopes and fears were both realized.  And when you said you were going to go through with this I was scared so much I thought I would need to change my pants, but at the same time, all I wanted to do was dance with you.  And then I told you that today was all about you.

And we played the piano downstairs, and then while you waited in the car, I asked your Mom to find out your ring size.  We ate, we went to that park, we played miniature golf, we went went to the batting cages, we saw a movie, we ran, you received some flowers, and then, for a while, we went back to the park again.

We stayed through the sunset, a little off the beaten path, lying in the grass.  And we watched the stars come out, one by one.  Your parents were probably worried.  But perhaps they were used to it.  After all, we had been going out for two weeks.

And then I ever-so-subtly moved myself over and laid my head on your stomach.  Now that I look back, it seems pretty awkward.  You were up on your elbows and my head was on your stomach, my face turned so I could see yours.  I don’t think that’s good for your back.

But your face was full of love, and you were smiling.  I could hear you breathing and I could make out your heartbeat.  And I realized that I was going to spend the rest of my days with you.

I fell in love with you, right then and there.

Love you still

Stephen

For a while you were like a dream. For a few days I forgot you, but the clouds in my mind have cleared and revealed only you. The words that you wrote and the promises we made sing your name. I fear your memory will always be with me because I seem to fall more in love with you every day.

Now, although I know much better, I think myself the saddest person on this earth. You are still my everything. I see your face and I know that, somewhere, God made an error in my favor. How else could our souls have touched?

Colder, still, to match my poor heart: I secretly pray that, as I sleep outside, the mercury will fall a few more inches and the world will slow down enough that I will be with you tomorrow. As always, I settle for a dream.

I would trade everything I have to see you just one more time.  A minute just to hold you and say I love you.  A minute for you to tell me not to be a crybaby and everything is going to be fine.  A minute to say we would do it all the same way and a minute to pray.

I miss you and how you would just come up with stories that obviously showed your absolute lack of sanity.

I cried when Emily and Sarah gave me your letter.  Prayed with them for a little bit.  They were uncomfortable but they suggested it.  All that was long overdue but maybe that was good… allowing me to sort a couple of things out.  But a lifetime is not long enough to forget you.  Did you know?  Sometimes people just know.  A girl.  I do not even know her name.  It would have made my heart skip a beat to hear that fluttering heart.

En cada palpitar.

And you still embarrass me.  They read the letter in all its horribly-organized detail.  Thank you very much for revealing my secrets, you jerk.

I am scared to tell people.  I am scared of visiting your parents.  I think they want to kill me.  Maybe they are luring me in.  I am going to knock on the door and they will look through the window and say “He’s here!  Set the trap!” and then I walk through the door only to be lifted off the ground in a net or impaled by arrows.  I can only pray that their hearts are softened.  They were willing to tell me about you, but even establishing that basic dialogue took five weeks.

I went to one of those dating seminar things last night.  Just for the personal rebuke.  This is what you did wrong.  And this.  And this.  I don’t know but it felt right to me.  Or… it felt wrong but it felt like God redeemed it.  I was ring-shopping, you know.  I was ready to move up with you and just hug you when it gets cold.  Struggling when we were apart, struggling even more when we would never be together again.

I miss when you would randomly just yell at me.  You are so cute when you get angry.  And scary.

LORD, Why?  It was not perfect but I loved her.  We worked so hard to make it right, we were growing, we loved each other, we made that commitment, we were working toward a common goal, we had our future planned… why take her in the middle of all that?  I hate You.  God.  Where are You?  WHERE ARE YOU?  We were talking about names for our children.  She was doing a Bible study on being a Biblical mother and she read through about Judah and wanted to name our first boy Judah.  Do You hear that?  After YOUR PRAISE.

And where in my heart can I search to find anything that wants to praise, now?  Where is the fruit?  Sometimes I wish You would just kill me.

And you.  I just want you to come back.  Please.  How could I imagine?  We first met back up and you called me Hopkins and now… now we do not even have to say each other’s names.  Or anything.  We could hear each other’s thoughts.  We… did.

You are right.  The world can crash around us and love can take it.  But it hurts more than anything.  It is a stretch to live at all.  And the pain I am in is sometimes the only thing reminding me that I am alive.  I do not ever want to love like that again.  I am not strong enough.  I think I know what I will name her.  I will tell you someday.

I like to run hills because it’s hard.

So what other types of hills do I run?  Right now I’m climbing a spiritual one.  It’s kinda romantic, but Steve told me that we need to grow so much on our own.  We need to grow apart from one another, but if we are both growing to God we are actually getting closer.  We were holding hands at the base of a hill and then he said I’ll meet you near the top and he went on another path.

So it’s kind of romantic.  My fiance is currently my devo-s accountability partner, and beyond that there’s no real communication.  He’s doing this so we can have a better life and love later on.  I think I understand, but this is a hard hill.