What does it mean when she breaks it off, but can’t break her mind off of talking to him?

How could she fool herself into feeling like she fell in love, and then realize 7 months later that it is more like a friendship?

Or did she trick herself into feeling like it was more like a friendship?

Did she get scared?

The words written down in that journal tell a different story…

The magic of the fact that the journal lay open on the bed, when it was indeed closed.

How does that happen?

The conversation was meant to happen the next day, or rather that weekend…

It happened on a Thursday.

Nothing is ever supposed to happen on a Thursday.

This Thursday was the Thursday of all Thursdays.

7 months prior was the asking of the hand in a new relationship.

One that would eventually lead to marriage.

Because they both figured they were sure of it.

Perhaps they still are.

Now she hears things like, “You don’t find peace until you love somebody else.”

And she wonders what that means…

One last break up.

That’s all they have.

That’s all they ever asked for.

It’s been prayed in prayer circles around that cafe, and in her mind for hours.

Months even…

She couldn’t stop thinking about how it could end.

She couldn’t stop worrying about if this one wasn’t the one the Lord had prepared for her.

What if there’s someone else?

What if this isn’t what it’s supposed to feel like?

What if it is him?

What if she’s driving herself mad, and she needs to wait it out…

The what ifs may have been right, but they could have slammed a door shut that He so badly wanted to open.

She closed it shut, then cracked it open.

Her doubts in herself began to open that door again.

Is this what He wants?

These thoughts torment her.

Others that had rooted them on. They taunt her from the other side of her mind.

Where were all of those answers coming from?

Did she think them all up herself?

Was God giving her those answers?

Why the two yeses and then one no?

What happens now?

Always fasting for answers.

He said to fast for joy, peace, and fun…

They didn’t have enough fun.

Everything seemed so serious.

Was she herself?

Why did she stop working out?

Why were there no butterflies?

Is that not odd?

Would they be happy in the years to come?

Are these questions that everyone has?

The endless dreams of what could be flood in…

The dreams of the past slip by, but linger as they do.

“That would have been nice to do with him.”

Or will it become a reality?

Only time will tell…


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