August 4, 1995 – Friday – 11:15 p.m.

We made it.  I am in Crestview, FL.

I am home.

It feels so good to be here.  Emily came outside and hugged me.  I hardly had a chance to look at her, but I felt her arms around me.  She had some friends over.  We played cards then went for a ride.  We went to this place called Dead Man’s Hill or something like that.  It is a local ghost story where if you park your car, your car will slowly go backwards up the hill, defying gravity.  Many tell the story of a couple who died in a car accident there, and it is the ghost pushing the cars up the hill looking for his long, lost love.  I sat behind Emily.  Her hair would sometimes blow back and touch my knee.

She is more beautiful than I thought.  Way more beautiful.  It is intimidating.  I can hardly speak.  Her smile is so big.  Her eyes so bright.  And she hugged me so tight.

I am tired.  So, I am going to bed.  I hear her voice in the background now.  I want her.  I want to hear her voice for the rest of my life.

Jesus?

Father?

What is happening?

Emily, I am here.  I’m a breath away.  We are breathing the same air.

I want so badly to tell you something.  But I’m afraid.  I am afraid for once in my life I might actually mean it.

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