what's love got to do with it

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 I know what it feels like to love so deeply and strongly without explanation. And I know what it feels like to grieve a separation of that love. A stomach drop any given moment of any day, at a fleeting thought of it, even when I got really good at completely compartmentalizing and convincing myself that I felt nothing anymore. Walled off cold and black. He wouldn't have made a good dad. He wouldn't attend church and I had envisioned someone who would teach a Sunday School class with me and to this day it is hard to remove that requirement for the person I would date because the person I was going to date should only be someone I would intend to marry. I lived for a long time believing that when James broke up with me late that summer it meant our second chance at being boyfriend and girlfriend was over and second chances are all you get, right? I was 21.

I was 21 and a half years old and ran in the exact opposite of the immense pain and sadness I was in. I did not run home. I drove directly to the church we had attended together and sat at the kitchen table in the parsonage with the pastor's wife, rededicating my life to the "lord". I was convinced I was being punished for my wild ways. I was tragically so very un-formed and uninformed. If I could go back... if I could go back. I would do things differently.

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