Two weeks and four days remain until I head back to Lees-McRae. I look forward to walking alone on my own private mountain trails. I need to think again with a clear mind. The mountain air always does me good.
I called Allen yesterday morning. Our conversation turned a bit serious when he told me that things went poorly with three of my dear friends as he attempted to do the boyfriend-girlfriend thing. He said he feels terrible. He crossed the line with each of them and they mean so much to me. It hurt to hear it, but I can do nothing but love them and forgive them. The conversation did make me very thankful to be there. I’m surrounded by so much innocence and purity. I would rather deal with loneliness than continually deal with the temptation I had to deal with during my days with Sarah. God continues to heal me of all those past hurts and pains. I want to me the real true me.
There really aren’t any girls here that seem to have my name on them. My thoughts often dwell on Mary Jo, Kimberly, and even Kerstin, but I honestly don’t think they are for me. I want to hold out for true love, and not just settle for a pretty girl I think I can live with. Mary Jo has impressed me the most with her heart, but I’m afraid our future paths in life are completely different.
For my most immediate future, I want to live my life in airports. I seem to find peace in them. Perhaps because I already live each day watching others as I wait to fly away.
There was a funny moment that happened at IHOP the other night when I was there with the youth group. I ordered pancakes and thought the thing in front of me on the table was syrup, but no…it was coffee. And it came out fast. I poured coffee all over my pancakes, myself, the table, those sitting next to me. Marion laughed for the next ten minutes. It was actually fantastic to be so the source of so much joy and laughter.
There are days when I like to be alone
To be still and silent
To listen
My stomach growls, my VCR rewinds
My memory does them both
A plane flies overhead
And I hear this pen move across this paper
Then there are days when I must listen to music
To hear the words of others as they dream
And to dream with them
I agree with Cindy Morgan, relate with Derek Webb
And adore Rebecca
But still there are times when my breath
Is the only music I need
And in this silent, I’ve come to ponder love
Is it terrible to love the wrong woman?
Is that such a waste of time?
If so, I wasted seven months
And can’t afford to spend this heart on the wrong one once again
The effort would be a tragedy
A ticking clock, never knowing the time