When did you fall for me? I was toast when I heard a talk given. I felt like I knew you, the quiet and observing one. Outgoing. Passionate about what you had to say. Connecting with your listeners. A talent for speaking. It’s so rare to be given the gift of being up in your head.
No. It was before that. I spent a large portion of the summer trying to be sane. I think I was falling for you before you knew it. The panic moment came when I realized you liked me back.
Did you like that feeling? Being liked back? Poor you.
What moment in the summer, for you? I’m terribly curious.
Then you smiled down at me, there at the gathering. And you waved, and I figured someone like you shouldn’t pick me. I had a lot of battle scars and had been through a lot.
And then you kept trying, and I guess I kept trying too. I want to spend hours talking, and I’m terrified. That’s what happens when too many guys say nasty things to you; years upon years upon years of that. Guys like to try to control the uncontrollable girls, sometimes; and hurt, when they can’t control. After a time, you just come to expect it. Walls. I have walls.
I made a decision, there at a festival. Your eyes are, as the saying goes, windows to the soul. You have no acting skills, and that is as refreshing as a mountain river. And I realized, “He’s toast. He really cares about me. And I think I also just confused him really, really badly.” Remedies made. Was the dress I chose for myself something pretty?
But that wasn’t what made me toast. You went out of your way to make life easier for me. Care and attention, and doing something best for me. Looking out for me. People don’t really do that for me very often. Selflessness. Safety. Knowing someone is tuned in to me. Doing the small things that only I notice.
These things made me toast, and God and I worked through my emotions until I could bring something good. I drew closer to God; so close I could hear Him say, “You’re beautiful.” His voice always there.
Then. Hammer fall. “Oh, God.” Oh, God. I cried a lot. You can never go back in time. In me, there’s a little girl trapped, behind every adult decision I try to make. You’re the same. Eyes. Your eyes are like that. Boy trapped inside an adult.
Do you trust me? I think I’m terribly toast. But you already know that. Oh dear.
Keep trying until the ice queen thaws again, and give space when there are ghosts. It took a long time to see you and not be a wreck. Others love you so much. I understand better now, past moments. She sees ghosts too.
I am thankful for God’s goodness. I think the devil makes the bad happen, but God gives the abundance of goodness. It’s true: He doesn’t give as the world gives.
How you managed to get past my walls is beyond me. A million others have tried and failed. I feel like it’s been a hundred years, but the “why” makes sense now.
Do you like dancing? And stories? God is a master at both. Do you ever just want to talk for hours, and yet be nervous? It would be easier, except for my walls. I get so locked up in my own head.