September 5, 1993 – Sunday – 1:30 p.m.

I just wept.  Yes, I cried.  Several tears ran down my face just two minutes ago.

I’m in the black chair that sits right in front of my stereo.  I’m listening to the “Piano Music” tape that Scott let me borrow.  I’m wearing a pair of blue jeans and purple shirt.  I guess while I’m getting super specific, I might as well add that my underwear brand is Fruit of the Loom.  I’m barefooted.

The lights were out two minutes ago, but they are on now.

Two minutes ago was the second time I cried tonight.  I cried about seven minutes before that.

Let the story of this night begin:

Marcus and I had a good conversation tonight in my room after we got back from church.  He told me about Angela, “a chapter,” as he refers to her.  He cares a great deal about her.  He gave me an in-depth summary of their past and their friendship.  They are not a couple, but he cares a great deal for her.  After an hour or so, he finished telling me everything he wanted to tell me.

It was my turn.

This is basically what I said:

“Shirley has often told me that Veronica was and is the best thing that has ever happened to me.  And she was right.  With my relationship with Veronica now, oh…I love it so much.  Both of us know how we used to feel for each other and knowing that, we joke around and laugh about the past, still knowing that it was special to each of us.  And sometimes now, I look at her and just thank God for her and how much she has shown me.  She still means a lot to me and she will always have a special place in my heart.”

Then I stopped.  I couldn’t say anything else.  After a minute, I spoke:

“Oh my gosh, Marcus.  I’m crying.  I’ve never cried over her before.  I’ve never cried over any girl before.”

Silence.

Tears rolled down my face, then I said, “Marcus, with my relationship with Veronica, I told her I loved her and it seemed fake and I didn’t like saying it.  Well, about two months ago something happened, and I wrote about it in my journal.”

So, I got my 2nd Book of Days and opened it up to June 28, 1993.  I didn’t read it straight out to him, that would be too embarrassing, but I basically told him what I wrote:

“It was a Monday night and I was at work.  I was working the counter and we didn’t have any customers.  It was quiet.  Then I sort of got a chill in my stomach and I wanted to say something.  But I never did say it.  I went home and was hungry, but I couldn’t eat.  I think I went for a walk, maybe not.  But something I wanted to happen so bad was happening.”

“Which was,” Marcus asked.

I was silent.  “But I never did say it Marcus, even to this day.  Because I’m afraid that it might be fake.  And when and if I ever do say it out loud for the first time, it is not going to be fake.”

“What were you going to say?” he asked.

“You know, and I’m not going to say it because then I’d be saying it.”

“That you love Ryan?”

I laughed.

“But I don’t.” I said.  “She is my Winter Dream.  I’ve always seen her as something I want so badly, but no matter how much I wish, deep down I know that my wish will never come true; Ryan and I will never become anything more than friends.  Which is not bad in and of itself.”

“Why don’t you say it?” Marcus asked.

“I’m afraid.  And I don’t want to admit it too myself because I never thought it would get this far.  I like her too much and I don’t want this to ruin our friendship.  I’m only 17!  I don’t know what love is.  I shouldn’t be able to know.”

“Is she the one, Jacob?”

I didn’t answer.

“Well?”

“I’m not going to say anything.”

“You need to answer the question Jacob.  I want to hear you tell me.”

“As I’ve said, I always thought of her as my Winter Dream, but the Lord has told me twice, once about a year ago and once again on August 27th, that the one for me is the girl I won’t be able to get out of my mind, no matter what.  And I’ll think about her more than I think about myself.”

“Then that’s Ryan!” Marcus said.

“But I’m only 17 Marcus!  I want it, but I don’t!”

“So, you mean down the road?!”

“Yes, but I don’t want to wish for it, because it might not come true.”

We said a little more then said our good nights.  I turned the lights off and sat down.  I pressed play on my stereo.  Piano music filled my room.

I thought of Ryan.

I thought of today in children’s church, when she asked me to help her with the puppet curtain and how we talked about the skit we did in church.  I thought of tonight, and how her green and yellow earring dangled from her left ear while she talked to Cheryl.  I thought of the way she smiled when Rebecca put ice down her shirt.

I thought of Ryan and then I felt a tear on my face.

Another one came and another.

They all poured down.

I was crying over her.

What does this mean?

I cried.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s