I'm posting here, simply cause everbody these days is on facebook-- Xanga is sooo 2004. I can be completely open and honest here, and no one will read it, so reprecussions won't bounce around. I am miserable right now. I have a friend. I have known her for going on five years now. I loved her from the moment I saw her, but she ended up with someone else. When she and her husband got married, I was devastated. Utterly, completely, ruined. (If you don't believe me, look up my xanga posts back in Dec 06-Jan 07. I have healed since then, but boy, was I f***ed up.) I still loved her, but I buried my feelings deep inside- and thought they were gone. Then, when certain things started happening between her and her husband, those feelings came back in full force. Still I said nothing, knowing that I could not intervene in their marriage; if it was God's will, I might get another chance. They divorced, and I did. (Now we are up to speed.) Recently, she moved out of her campus apartment and into one off-campus. She and her ex-husband began spending a lot of time together. I began to worry, a voice in the back of my mind telling me "they're going to get back together." I dismissed it as garbage, but it kept nagging at me-- and there seemed to me to be subtle changes in the way she was acting, both towards me and towards him. One Friday, shortly after her move, she showed up in the cafeteria. She said she was making a shopping run, and I asked her if I could come along. She told me no, that there wasn't enough room in her car. Her answer confused me-- since it would just be myself, her, and her baby boy; and it's not like we hadn't all fit into the car before-- till I saw her leave with her ex. That moment my heart dropped into my stomach. The voice in my mind started in louder. I texted my brother and he told me to come up to his place for the weekend. It seemed like a good idea to me. But I decided I would first deal with my fears directly, by going to her house and admitting to her what I was thinking. I was confident she would laugh at my misguided worries. I arrived at her apartment rather late. I knocked on the door. She answered, and I asked if she was alone. She told me no, that her ex was helping her unpack-- though she had told me earlier that day that NO ONE helped her unpack, when I asked if I could help. My heart shattered. I said goodbye rudely, an action I now regret. At the time, it seemed a better option than just bursting into tears at her door. If I had known it would be the last time I spoke to her, I would have been kinder. I didn't even make it all the way down the stairs before I began crying. I wondered how it was possible that I could have earned a repeat of the worst moments of my life. Life is unfair, I guess. I sent her a voicemail on my way up to my brother's house. I could have chosen my words more carefully; since I believe that this message is the reason why she will not even talk to me to this day. At my brother's place, I wrestled with my feelings, and came to the conclusion that I could not live without this girl. I still loved her, and she was and is the best thing to have ever happened to me. Upon my return to Grayson, I moved to deal with the situation. I am a very action-oriented person; if there is an issue that is important to me I deal with it. Big mistake. All my attempts to contact her drove her further away. This girl, the person I am most transparent and honest with as I can be, would not even answer her door when I knocked. She sent me a text a few days later, telling me to give her some space. I have observed her wishes so far-- I hope Colorado is enough distance, since that's where I am for the next 10 or so days-- and now I find I have no option but to do what is terribly difficult for me: wait. We are still not talking; and I pray with all my might that she isn't going back to him. I barely survived losing her once; I can literally not imagine what having it happen a second time would do to me. Everyone close to me is telling me that I need to move on, that I should give up on this girl. But as long as there is a chance, I must take it. Just one five-minute conversation would clear up so much. I am miserable. If you will excuse me, I am going to go talk to my abba. (Ironic that it takes something like this to make me acknowledge Him.) | 
