Dearest,
next to you, yeah, right there, to your right, sitting on one of those wood chairs with not enough padding, is me. not because there’s some ghost of me still left in that library, goodness knows, my fingerprints are still lightly to be found on the top of dusty books on the top shelves or in stacks, and not because Wreck this Journal would also come with me to the library, and not because i’ve sat doing work for long crazy nonsocial hours just like you. i’m right there to your right because yea, i understand. and you’re right there next to me because yea, you understand. we know life is loving deeper than we understand and loving more than maybe we ever meant to. we know that the tears of laughing fits are just as significant and intimate as the tears of grayer griefs and blacker losses. we know the glorious depths and fear defying (and fear embracing) heights. we know the deep healing hoping touch of a hug. we know that midnight and 2am and 6am are not just hours of the night. we know how critically precious a moment is. we’ve known much. and yet, we know we’re babies in our Abba’s arms, coming to listen. and in the overflow, love. because, well, love wins.
loved.
