I just got back from a party. I socialized, I flirted, I befriended, I small-talked. And now, I'm home, alone and somehow it all seems so stupid. I went out with old mission companions for dinner and they of course, wanted to know everything about Adam and Australia. Thus, an entire evening of extolling his virtues was born. Do you want to know about my trip? It was wonderful. Adam held my hand in public. He treated me like I belonged with him. He kissed me goodbye when he went to work. This is all in addition to being my very best friend for 4 months.
I don't want to go to parties. I don't want one more person to tell me that I'm doing so much better than they would be if they were in my situation. I don't want to hear that I'm a rock and that I lived life and they think I'm brave for going to Australia. The brave part comes now. The brave part is tonight when I am so alone in this house, typing it all out on my computer and wishing I didn't have to be brave and trust and believe and hope. The brave part is letting go of something that I wanted more than I've wanted just about anything.
Do you know that once when I was 16, I auditioned for the Governor's school for the performing arts? My friend Amy got accepted to the theater program and told me all about the acceptance letter. One day, at about the right time for a response, I came home and there was a brown manila envelope just as Amy described it. I screamed and ran out into the street dancing. I had been accepted. Finally after all the celebration, I opened the envelope to find that it was something for my father and not me. Not going to governor's school meant that I had to move to South Carolina with my family. It meant that I had to leave my friends sooner than I wanted and it meant that things were not going to look the way I envisioned and planned them to be.
Knowing that I have received revelation about my relationship with Adam not being "right" for marriage is one thing...learning to redirect my hopes and dreams into the unknown is another. It's life after opening the envelope to find a tax letter for your dad instead of a governor's school acceptance letter. Tonight I feel vulnerable to being swallowed up in the disappointment. I have hope but it's tiny like a pen light instead of a floodlight.