watching him leave a second time, without a word left me with a period - where for months questions flowed as a wave over the shoreline I sat before: what happened? Hope is deferred yet again— Jesus, why did I fall for this? why did I feel stunned when he crossed the line? couldn’t say a word except I’m so hurt & he wanted to give me space- I wanted to work through it. why didn’t I get it then? why didn’t I demand respect, cut it off? why can’t I see anything else? I knew the desires weren’t going to be enough — I wanted something built upon the Rock—patience & kindness go longer than lust. & I now I’m fully out & see you weren’t at the center, I couldn’t talk with him like my heart longed — like a friend and a lover, tell him about my days, what I learned in your word or how you’re moving. encouraged/encourage him, share memories of growing up, to go at a pace where growing can happen - not rush rush rush, I wanted to linger. & here I am in November — with my heart open, casting nets deeper with Peter hoping that maybe just maybe this is better. (sure feels better)