January 4, 1999 – Monday – 11:25 p.m.

The first flight was delayed, but I arrived safely and Christin and her mom were waiting patiently to pick me up.  Christin handed me a card as well as a bouquet of sharpened pencils, it was a reference to You’ve Got Mail.  It was nice.

I came home to a tone of messages.  I called Lindy and she said she is coming to visit on Thursday through Saturday.  I can’t wait to see her.  I’m sure we will have the best time in the world.

Earlier today at the Pensacola airport I watched the most amazing family of four.  I saw such a display of love.  I cried inside as I watched them and prayed that God would let me have that someday.

I found a letter from Sarah in my mailbox.  She asked me to pray for her and she thanked me for letting her love me.  The letter was nice, but…well…I guess it’s never too late.

Amy, a teammate from South Africa, also wrote me from France.  She sent beautiful pictures.  It was great to hear from her.

 

Advertisements

January 4, 1999 – Monday – 2:00 p.m.

I am now at the Pensacola airport.  It’s the fourth day of 1999.  It’s not just the end of a decade, but the end of a century.  Knowledge feels rampant, but love feels scares.  I do not know what this year will hold, but I will worship the Lord throughout.

There is a small flock of birds scattered amongst the clouds.  It’s a good day to fly.

I want to be a good student and a good friend this semester.  All of that is much harder than it sounds.  I want to live right.  I’m so thankful to be away from Sarah, and I no longer want to mess with Emily.  I want to start afresh.

I told my good friends at Lees-McRae that I would come visit during my spring break, but I think it might be bad for me to go back.  I do not belong there anymore.  I doubt I will have the money anyway.

Well, they just announced my flight was delayed.  I have to go check something out…

 

December 29, 1998 – Tuesday – 9:30 a.m.

It is nearing the end of the year.  I rest in Milton, Florida, USA, and these days force me to look back.

Nineteen Hundred Ninety-Eight.

Thoughts of Sarah, as well as saying goodbye to Lees-McRae, took up the first six months. I still long for that place, but I’m secretly and silently afraid to go back to visit, for I fear I might ruin it’s impact on my life and my heart.

There was a month of transition in the middle of this year through which I visited Texas and South Africa, with brief stops in New York and Miami.  Those were such perfect days.  I wish I could go back and stay in them a little longer, for they were simply too short.

Virginia Beach, Regent University, and Parkway Temple all immediately fell into my lap and my heart.  It seemed as though my collection grew overnight, and now it is the only home I long for.

I am enjoying my time off here, but my parents’ marriage, my stepfather’s need to explain everything, and my mother’s non-displays-of-affection towards her husband and myself still shock and hurt me.  I simply do not understand.  I stay silent.

Emily said she would call yesterday.  She did not.  She reminds me of Sarah.

I just want to do it right.  I want a true and simple love.

The tiny smile of Christin is all I need.

Since my first semester of graduate school is over, it is time to pick the most cherished moments of that time.  There are only two, and I was fully aware they were perfect moments while they were happening.

The first was on November 28, 1998, the Saturday evening I spent with Tracey.  It was the moment during Riverdance in which a gentlemen played a beautiful bagpipe sort of instrument and the entire world stopped.  The music brought peace to the entirety of my days and perfect love to my heart.  I had an old friend by my side and even older memories in my mind.  I had just seen Vince and Allen, a beautiful sunset, and fantastic fireworks.

Perfection.

The next one took place during the early morning hours of December 13, 1998.  My Heart Will Go On played over the credits of Titanic.  Sterling was asleep on one side of me, and Christin was asleep on the other.  Her beautiful face was on my chest and my fingers were in her hair.

Perfection.

And so, a few days of this year remain.

Can 1999 be so close?

What is happening to this world?

Jesus, you are my shelter.

You are all I seek.

Please guide me.

 

December 13, 1998 – Sunday – 1:57 p.m.

Our tech rehearsal went well at church yesterday.  I gave some great moving speech and then everyone did a perfect job.  We open on Friday.

Last night was a wonderful evening.  I had a little slumber party with Christin and Sterling, we stayed up late and watched Seven Years in Tibet and Titanic.  What a delightful time we had.  They dressed me up as a girl and we even played the new Zelda game!

We stayed up until two in the morning.  That was my 7th time watching Titanic and it’s only been out one year.

A year ago I was holding Sarah, but last night Christin laid her beautiful face on a pillow she had placed upon my chest and I ran my fingers through her hair.

It’s been a good year.

November 12, 1998 – Thursday – 10:57 p.m.

Things are moving faster now.

My greatest fear is that I will lose the time to remember.

My closest friends here are the age of my little brother.

Look at what I have become.

A role model, simple as that.

But the ones I am an example for…

I want to be their age again.

I don’t want to grow up.

But I do want to live.

The storm is already brewing again.

Even now I remind those I love here that I will be leaving.

What can be beyond here?

When will life let me catch my breath?

When can I share this lily pad?

When can I be a role model to my own blood?

When will the others become alive?

When will Emily forgive and forget?

When will my father live in God’s will?

When will Sarah let God in?

When will I have kept all my promises, and drive away into my memories?

November 11, 1998 – Wednesday – 12:55 a.m.

Tonight was wonderful.  I had dinner over at Kimberly’s, and we worked on sign language stuff for the show.  I like the way she laughs; her whole body just vibrates with no sound.

I came back after five hours and worked on a paper, then I felt the need to call Sarah.  She actually talked to me a little.  She is not good, her life is confusing, and without purpose.  She told me about getting drunk on Halloween.  I prayed for her and we were able to talk about our relationship and what really happened between us and what it meant.  And we agreed on this:  that I let her bring me to the place I am now, but she never let me bring her.

But it isn’t too late.  It is never too late.