We were walking home in the rain together, talking. I noticed that if I angled my umbrella just right (concave towards the building and a little in front of me) it would echo my words back to me. Sweet.
The sky kept speaking rain to the earth and we kept talking. Something I said hit Rachel just right (in the poetic part that loves creation and relationships) and she echoed the feeling back to me. Sweet.
The blissful moment of being together and knowing just exactly what each other felt left us plunging into the abyss of knowing that this is just a semester. "I can't leave!" we agreed. Words could not express the agony of this impermanence, so we followed the example of the Spirit– we groaned. Audibly, pathetically, we interceeded each other's pain.
It was good to know that someone felt just as horrible as I did. It wasn't spite, it was a connection. Friends laugh together. Good friends cry together. Really good friends laugh and cry at the same time together. They ride together in the front car of the roller coaster with their hands in the air and when they turn a sudden corner, they don't mind slamming into each other, because it's a connection.
I'm digging in my heels, knowing that God's about to lead me to another place where I'm going to make a whole bunch of friends that I'll just have to say goodbye to. I've waited in line for this rollercoaster too long to not enjoy it. And I know I will. But if you´re going to sit in the front car of this roller coaster next to me, get ready to get slammed into just a few times. Because I know I can't hang on, but I'm still looking for connections.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment