After rehearsal last night, I had a message from Ann-Marie, so I called her back. “Abigail and I want to come over and talk!” she said.
And they did. The three of us just laid in my bed and Ann-Marie talked about the huge crush she has on Vince and Abigail said similar little things while I touched her face and hair.
Ann-Marie has low self-esteem. It must be hard being a girl.
And Abigail said she was still in love with K.C. And yet, I didn’t care. I don’t need Abigail to like me, I just need to know that I comfort her. Yes, I rub the fingers of my heart along her face and through her hair and yes, she may be taking advantage of my male touch, but none of that matters to me. It’s simply how I tell her things that I can’t find the words for. It’s how I let her know what she means to me. And I know she isn’t getting the message; I know she doesn’t know that I’ve memorized the curves of her ears to the point that I can draw them in my sleep, but it doesn’t matter.
All that matters is that I know.
I’m in the middle. I don’t know what I am to people and that’s probably a good thing.
I got Rebecca St. James new devotional today. I read a bit of it. Life is wonderful knowing that amazing woman lives in the next state over.
Life is wonderful knowing that it will change very soon.
And life is wonderful knowing Abigail and I share special moments together. She lays near me and I simply touch her. My mind is on her, and her mind is on K.C., but if I help soothe any pain, or help her let go of any stress, then I am happy.
Perhaps the Lord is using Abigail to teach me about his love. He loves so many that do not love him back.
I love you God.
Thank you for touching my face.