Hope is a devastatingly wonderful thing.
The more of life I experience the more I see the two sides to every coin.
Freedom paves the way to opportunities of life and yet at the same time death. In freedom one can choose to live a life free from addictions free from things that would hold them back. But conversely freedom also lends to the possibility of great slavery.
Love as beautiful and wonderful as it can be also has another side to it. Love can be received like a warm hug. It can also be rejected, it can be neglected like a letter never opened by the recipient.
Hope as I am discovering is no different.
Life is a journey and along the way we learn. We learn by experiencing. We learn what it feels like at the top of a mountain only after we strive to reach the peak. We learn the pleasure of certain foods only after we've tasted. We learn what music sounds like only after we've listened. Life is meant to be lived and it is good.
But sometimes we get winded before the summit.
Sometimes we wince at the taste of rotten food.
Sometimes we cringe at the sound of noise.
Life is meant to be lived and sometimes it is hard.
Hope is an amazing thing that drives the human race. It is hard to describe, hard to grasp, and impossible to extinguish.
Hope has the power to overthrow unjust systems.
It has the power to taste freedom in the midst of bondage.
It has the power to change someone.
It pushes people beyond anything they thought themselves capable of.
And yet, just as I am finding more and more each year, every coin has two sides.
Hope can make a man blind.
Hope can deceive a man.
Hope can enslave a man.
"Not enough"
Those are the words that echo in my head minute after minute these past 28 hours.
Not enough
I love you, but not enough
I deceived myself with hope. I have been praying and hoping for the past 2 months, the past two years, that Bea and I would end up together.
Hope is a powerful thing.
Hope makes a man more courageous than he ever thought possible.
Love makes a man more brave.
Hope mixed with love is a devastating thing.
Bea had texted me Tuesday after meeting with Toni Monday. My heart raced as my fingers tapped the touch screen keyboard that illuminated my face during nap time. She wanted to get together and talk.
Hope mixed with love is a devastating thing.
Thursday night at 7:30 arrives. Layers of prayers and hoping all leading to this one conversation. I put on my hat and jacket as I lock the door behind me. It's dark out as I walk down the rainy soaked concrete steps in front of the porch connecting to the crooked bumpy sidewalk. I start walking towards High Street. Prayers flow in and out of my mind and mouth as I make my way. The air feels cold in the night sky. Rain keeps dripping from my hair to my face. I reach the coffee shop order a cup of tea, sit by the fire place...and wait.
Hope mixed with love is a devastating thing.
I'm checking my phone and I'm praying. 8:08...where is she? I'm getting nervous. She'll be here...Then... My heart stops as I see her long brown hair bounce around the corner of the fire place. Her big brown eyes locked with mine she is smiling without showing teeth and her arms are filled, notebook, bible, books and a ukulele. She sits on the deep blue couch next to me.
"can I give you a hug?" she asks.
"...yeah"
I wrap around her and pull her tight towards me. My fears and worries melt away. She's here. We are here. She hands me a book as a gift and I ask what she wanted to talk about. I can feel the silence and that look as if she's already said everything she wanted to say in the flash of a moment.
Hope mixed with love is a devastating thing.
"Adam, I really care about you, and you are my best friend. But I don't love you enough."
My stomach turns into a sailors knot and I feel like I'm going to throw up. My body starts to get hot and I can feel the tears pressing against my eyes. We are sitting in the middle of a coffee shop and nothing matters.
"Should we talk in my car?"
"I don't care if these people see."
Bea reaches for my hand and I can't hold the salty warm tears back anymore I feel the first one run down my cheek followed by the second on the other side of my nose. I don't understand. She moves closer to me. Why is she holding my hand? Why is she moving closer to me? Her words are saying one thing but her body is saying another.
"I don't understand"
I keep repeating. I'm trying to listen to her but her words aren't the words I'm looking for.
Hope mixed with love is a devastating thing.
"I love you Bea"
"I know you do Adam and I care about you, just...not enough."
two hours pass and she asks if she could come over. I'm so confused. She doesn't want me but she wants to be with me? We park on the street near my house she turns to me and asks if she can play a song on her ukulele. I smile and say "I'd love that" Her hair covers her face as she focuses on the strings. Her left hand gently forms the first cords as her right strums softly. She looks perfect in this moment. She is so careful as she holds it and out comes this out of tune soft melody. I've never heard anything as pretty. Then she starts to sing and I can't handle it. I burst into tears. I love her voice. It's the same one that sang as we drove past the Scioto river downtown. It's the same voice that I've heard sing beside me at Joshua House and the same voice I've heard as she cooks, or organizes her room. It's wonderful and I can't control my tears. I haven't cried this hard since... I can remember, maybe ever. She sets down the ukulele and throws her arms around me as my snot runs down my beard and I feel her hair against my cheek. I hold her so tight. I can't let go and I can't fucking stop crying. She's wonderful. Her heart, her eyes, her voice, and I'm holding her and it's freezing outside. We walk into my house and lay on the couch by the Christmas tree.
I hold it all when I hold you.
Copeland is playing on my phone as I squeeze her as close to me as I can get. She begs me not to let her go. But something isn't right. Her words said she doesn't want me but here she is in my arms... I don't understand and I'm scared. I sit up and turn off the music. It doesn't feel right. Here is she. I've waited months for this and yet it doesn't feel like she's in the same house as me. Her body is near me but her heart is so far. And It's the only thing I want. It's all I've wanted, for her to freely, willingly, lovingly, give me her heart. But her heart tells her that her love towards me is "not enough"
Hope mixed with love is a devastating thing.
We talk and laugh and cry and kiss and hold each other until 5:30 on Friday morning. Its easy to spend 9 hours with her. It always has. It passes like the blink of an eye. She keeps telling me she's missed me. She misses this Adam. I'm myself again and now she is confused. She drives away in the freezing rain and I tell her to text me when she's home. She does and we text throughout the day.
Suddenly We are in my bedroom. She is sitting on my bed and I am in the cold, grey, hard folding chair.
"I am so sorry Adam. I really messed with you last night. I'm sorry. I was not very loving. I care about you a lot Adam...just not enough."
I'm scared to hug her, I'm scared to look at her. I don't understand. Why did last night happen? Why did she even want to do that? Why? I'm confused! I don't know! She's about to walk out of my room and I want so badly to hold her again but I'm so fucking scared. I stand up and as my body heaves with tears I pull her towards me. Her fleece jacket fuzzy and warm against my hands. I move them up and down her back. I hold her tight. Her arms are wrapped under my arms and around my shoulders. I know exactly how Peeta feels towards Katniss. I can't let her go but yet she doesn't want this and so it feels so selfish to keep her here. I sit on my bed as she closes the door. Next I know, I am on the cold hardwood floor sobbing.
She's gone.
It's over.
I'm confused.
Hope is a devastatingly wonderful thing.
Hope can make a man blind.
Hope makes a man more courageous than he ever thought possible.
I don't want to be alone. I walk down stairs and find Ellen knitting by the Christmas tree. I sit on the couch and weep. Silently. No words. This is the risk of love, this is the risk of hope.
This is life.
God I am for Bea. I pray that she experiences a joy that cannot be described in life. I pray that she experiences a freedom that knows no limits. And I pray that she is loved exactly as much as she deserves and nothing less. Thank you for the time you gave me with her. Bea is a wonderful person. I love her very deeply.
Brown Eyed Girl - Ken Middleton
The more of life I experience the more I see the two sides to every coin.
Freedom paves the way to opportunities of life and yet at the same time death. In freedom one can choose to live a life free from addictions free from things that would hold them back. But conversely freedom also lends to the possibility of great slavery.
Love as beautiful and wonderful as it can be also has another side to it. Love can be received like a warm hug. It can also be rejected, it can be neglected like a letter never opened by the recipient.
Hope as I am discovering is no different.
Life is a journey and along the way we learn. We learn by experiencing. We learn what it feels like at the top of a mountain only after we strive to reach the peak. We learn the pleasure of certain foods only after we've tasted. We learn what music sounds like only after we've listened. Life is meant to be lived and it is good.
But sometimes we get winded before the summit.
Sometimes we wince at the taste of rotten food.
Sometimes we cringe at the sound of noise.
Life is meant to be lived and sometimes it is hard.
Hope is an amazing thing that drives the human race. It is hard to describe, hard to grasp, and impossible to extinguish.
Hope has the power to overthrow unjust systems.
It has the power to taste freedom in the midst of bondage.
It has the power to change someone.
It pushes people beyond anything they thought themselves capable of.
And yet, just as I am finding more and more each year, every coin has two sides.
Hope can make a man blind.
Hope can deceive a man.
Hope can enslave a man.
"Not enough"
Those are the words that echo in my head minute after minute these past 28 hours.
Not enough
I love you, but not enough
I deceived myself with hope. I have been praying and hoping for the past 2 months, the past two years, that Bea and I would end up together.
Hope is a powerful thing.
Hope makes a man more courageous than he ever thought possible.
Love makes a man more brave.
Hope mixed with love is a devastating thing.
Bea had texted me Tuesday after meeting with Toni Monday. My heart raced as my fingers tapped the touch screen keyboard that illuminated my face during nap time. She wanted to get together and talk.
Hope mixed with love is a devastating thing.
Thursday night at 7:30 arrives. Layers of prayers and hoping all leading to this one conversation. I put on my hat and jacket as I lock the door behind me. It's dark out as I walk down the rainy soaked concrete steps in front of the porch connecting to the crooked bumpy sidewalk. I start walking towards High Street. Prayers flow in and out of my mind and mouth as I make my way. The air feels cold in the night sky. Rain keeps dripping from my hair to my face. I reach the coffee shop order a cup of tea, sit by the fire place...and wait.
Hope mixed with love is a devastating thing.
I'm checking my phone and I'm praying. 8:08...where is she? I'm getting nervous. She'll be here...Then... My heart stops as I see her long brown hair bounce around the corner of the fire place. Her big brown eyes locked with mine she is smiling without showing teeth and her arms are filled, notebook, bible, books and a ukulele. She sits on the deep blue couch next to me.
"can I give you a hug?" she asks.
"...yeah"
I wrap around her and pull her tight towards me. My fears and worries melt away. She's here. We are here. She hands me a book as a gift and I ask what she wanted to talk about. I can feel the silence and that look as if she's already said everything she wanted to say in the flash of a moment.
Hope mixed with love is a devastating thing.
"Adam, I really care about you, and you are my best friend. But I don't love you enough."
My stomach turns into a sailors knot and I feel like I'm going to throw up. My body starts to get hot and I can feel the tears pressing against my eyes. We are sitting in the middle of a coffee shop and nothing matters.
"Should we talk in my car?"
"I don't care if these people see."
Bea reaches for my hand and I can't hold the salty warm tears back anymore I feel the first one run down my cheek followed by the second on the other side of my nose. I don't understand. She moves closer to me. Why is she holding my hand? Why is she moving closer to me? Her words are saying one thing but her body is saying another.
"I don't understand"
I keep repeating. I'm trying to listen to her but her words aren't the words I'm looking for.
Hope mixed with love is a devastating thing.
"I love you Bea"
"I know you do Adam and I care about you, just...not enough."
two hours pass and she asks if she could come over. I'm so confused. She doesn't want me but she wants to be with me? We park on the street near my house she turns to me and asks if she can play a song on her ukulele. I smile and say "I'd love that" Her hair covers her face as she focuses on the strings. Her left hand gently forms the first cords as her right strums softly. She looks perfect in this moment. She is so careful as she holds it and out comes this out of tune soft melody. I've never heard anything as pretty. Then she starts to sing and I can't handle it. I burst into tears. I love her voice. It's the same one that sang as we drove past the Scioto river downtown. It's the same voice that I've heard sing beside me at Joshua House and the same voice I've heard as she cooks, or organizes her room. It's wonderful and I can't control my tears. I haven't cried this hard since... I can remember, maybe ever. She sets down the ukulele and throws her arms around me as my snot runs down my beard and I feel her hair against my cheek. I hold her so tight. I can't let go and I can't fucking stop crying. She's wonderful. Her heart, her eyes, her voice, and I'm holding her and it's freezing outside. We walk into my house and lay on the couch by the Christmas tree.
I hold it all when I hold you.
Copeland is playing on my phone as I squeeze her as close to me as I can get. She begs me not to let her go. But something isn't right. Her words said she doesn't want me but here she is in my arms... I don't understand and I'm scared. I sit up and turn off the music. It doesn't feel right. Here is she. I've waited months for this and yet it doesn't feel like she's in the same house as me. Her body is near me but her heart is so far. And It's the only thing I want. It's all I've wanted, for her to freely, willingly, lovingly, give me her heart. But her heart tells her that her love towards me is "not enough"
Hope mixed with love is a devastating thing.
We talk and laugh and cry and kiss and hold each other until 5:30 on Friday morning. Its easy to spend 9 hours with her. It always has. It passes like the blink of an eye. She keeps telling me she's missed me. She misses this Adam. I'm myself again and now she is confused. She drives away in the freezing rain and I tell her to text me when she's home. She does and we text throughout the day.
Suddenly We are in my bedroom. She is sitting on my bed and I am in the cold, grey, hard folding chair.
"I am so sorry Adam. I really messed with you last night. I'm sorry. I was not very loving. I care about you a lot Adam...just not enough."
I'm scared to hug her, I'm scared to look at her. I don't understand. Why did last night happen? Why did she even want to do that? Why? I'm confused! I don't know! She's about to walk out of my room and I want so badly to hold her again but I'm so fucking scared. I stand up and as my body heaves with tears I pull her towards me. Her fleece jacket fuzzy and warm against my hands. I move them up and down her back. I hold her tight. Her arms are wrapped under my arms and around my shoulders. I know exactly how Peeta feels towards Katniss. I can't let her go but yet she doesn't want this and so it feels so selfish to keep her here. I sit on my bed as she closes the door. Next I know, I am on the cold hardwood floor sobbing.
She's gone.
It's over.
I'm confused.
Hope is a devastatingly wonderful thing.
Hope can make a man blind.
Hope makes a man more courageous than he ever thought possible.
I don't want to be alone. I walk down stairs and find Ellen knitting by the Christmas tree. I sit on the couch and weep. Silently. No words. This is the risk of love, this is the risk of hope.
This is life.
God I am for Bea. I pray that she experiences a joy that cannot be described in life. I pray that she experiences a freedom that knows no limits. And I pray that she is loved exactly as much as she deserves and nothing less. Thank you for the time you gave me with her. Bea is a wonderful person. I love her very deeply.
Brown Eyed Girl - Ken Middleton