I was looking in my desk for a napkin to absorb the condensation from the grande iced zen tea that was bleeding on my paperwork. I found the email you wrote me a life time ago. You were trying to make me laugh through a particularly tough time, and you succeeded. It was silly and disjointed. But it conveyed a sweet familiarity that comes with shared memories and inside jokes. We had a few, no? Suddenly I felt the dull ache of lonliness.

Why did I keep that email? I guess I didn’t realize that you would not always be the same person to me. Don’t get me wrong. You are still the sweetest, most authentic person I have ever known. You still make me laughed at the “unique” way that you look at the world. You are still one of the few people that Jesus loves me well through. But it is different now. I wouldn’t change the way things turned out for anything. Things are clearly the way they were meant to be. But sometimes I do wonder what would have happened if I had just managed the courage to say, “I love you, too.”


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