The familiar ache

I'm packing up my apartment - getting ready to move just a few streets away. I have a love / hate relationship with moving. I love starting over, getting the chance to make new memories, cleaning out the old and closing a door. I hate packing everything up, cleaning my old apartment and the fear of the unknown with the new place. Last night I was going through some old journals and I came across the last entries before I met Tyler, the two after I met him, and the many after my heart was shattered. One in particular stood out. I remember writing it. I had just woken up from the most realistic dream I've ever had. He held my hand, told me he was sorry and that it was all a big misunderstanding. Then he kissed me. When I woke up, I realized it was all a dream, and he was still mad at me. My heart was still broken and I realized I was probably never going to see him again. I wept for hours that day. Hours. This journal entry chronicled the pain. All the things I had loved about him, all the things I missed, all the things that infuriated me, all the things I wanted back. And then I cried for my broken heart. For the months that I spent crying myself to sleep. All I could ask the Lord was if He wept for me too? During that terrible time, did He mourn for my broken heart? I know He did. I know that His tears were mixed in with mine as I laid there unable to breathe. I know He ached with me during the mornings I couldn't get out of bed. I know He knew. He knew...

It's been four years, almost to the day, since I met him. If I could go back to myself during that time all I would tell myself is to be confident in who I was and love without reservation. I wouldn't take back one single moment of that summer, I would only take back the way it fell apart. I should have been honest. I should have been the one to tell him. I should have grabbed him and kissed him when I had the chance. If only... but, I didn't, because that's not who I am. Anchorman was our movie. Wild Ginger was our restaurant. Sundays were our mornings. I have an extraordinary and rare love. And you didn't want it. I hope you're happy now, I really do.

But there is still a tiny bit of me that hopes the ring you gave to her turns her finger green.

Never again - will I kiss you
Never again - will I want to.
Never again - will I love you.

Never.