The throbbing is slowing receding. Very slowly… I need to put some time between me and last night. It’s hard to pray, as the thoughts keep crowding in, pushing back my devotion. I think–no, I know the only thing holding me together today was the prayerful intercession of others. I have an amazing family and group of friends. Aaron was understanding and compassionate today over dinner, something he rarely is (he has a host of other good qualities to make up for that shortcoming, though).
Snippets of songs and fleeting cloudlimbs of our romance keep floating through my mind…
I said I never, ever wanted to feel that way again, and yet here I am. The pain, while less acute last night, is longer-wearing than the last was.
I need His peace right now, His comfort. If anything, my continued capacity to function academically is a testament to His sustaining grace.
I wear a painted frown today, I walk with shifty-eyed step, slowly, a man burdened. Today, I am acquianted with sorrow. We walk side by side through the groups of laughter, every step pushing against the encroaching ground. Grief and gravity are related, I’m convinced.
So much lost, so much ripped out of my heart. So many things we’ll never do. How can I trust her again, even years down the road? I cannot see that far, and yet my heart ranges far and wide, searching for solace. The top is off-kilter, the dance out of time. A part of me is missing, gone.