I know it’s over now. I understand it. I feel it. I believe it.
And I’ve started to see the future.
But in that future, I just hope, when someone asks, you’ll mention me.
I hope you’ll say I was lovely, and gorgeous, and sweet. That you’ll remember to tell them how much you loved seeing me smile and holding my hand.
I hope you’ll mention that our best dates were at Taco Bells or eating $5 pizzas in the park. And that you’ll tell them you always had fun with me.
I hope with all my heart that you won’t forget to talk about our conversations. That you’ll be able to explain what I can’t— the magic of our dialogue, the spark of our connection.
I hope you’ll rattle off all the times you made me laugh, and that you’ll talk about how clearly I saw your gift for making people feel better whenever they were sad.
But mostly, I pray you’ll at least explain that we both loved God, because I believe that God was always right there with us on our journey.
As for me, I know when someone asks about love and such, I’ll never forget to mention you.
Today in youth group we talked about the resurrection story (see: Easter, requirements) and we asked the students what it means to them that Jesus died on the cross for their sins.
And one of the amazing students in said youth group said that to her it really showed that Jesus had faith in humanity.
I had never thought about it that way.
But really, I guess, Jesus could have been all “These people suck. And no matter what I do they’ll never change, so why bother.”
He didn’t say that though. Instead, he was all, “I love these people. And I know that if I die for them, they have the ability to become their best selves.”
So, it was Jesus’ faith in us that mattered first. Not the other way around.
I am very excited about the royal wedding.
Obviously it is all about love.
Moving on, my roommate is lame. She is
sitting laying right next to me and reading everything I write as I type it. Lame. Lame. Lame.
Moving on again. Her hair looks horrid. It is probably the worst I have ever seen it. Think mullet, mixed with grease mixed with ick.
Anyway, I feel a little bit stronger, et al., for those keeping track of my broken heart. It still sucks and whatnot, but you know, I’m still here so I figure we can mark this one in the “win” category for the time being.
Now my roommate is saying that my hair doesn’t look too hot right now either. I disagree.
I think it looks awesome. Think beautiful mixed with gorgeous mixed with love.
She says “that’s not true.” She is wrong.
I’m really going to miss her.
Long story short (sale) I have to move out by June 5. Anyone looking for a roommate?
I have great hair.