I've never really experienced a difficult goodbye.
I knew I'd see others again, have plenty of time with them. Have similar experiences again.
I feel like this is different;
I beg it not to be.
You are different.
I feel like, even though we were not always hanging out, we knew each other's hearts.
A simple sentence could catch you up on my life and I on yours.
So simple. So easy. So therapeutic.
You just knew. You have a beautiful gift that God has blessed you with.
And I will miss it.
And I will miss you.
I cried before and I cry again.
You mean a lot to me- you just being you.
Words can't express how we are.
So I'll beat-box it out. I'll pick it up and put it down. I'll "Make awkward sexual advances, not war." I'll share a large strawberry smoothie. I'll make facebook videos of the randomness. I'll confuse some freshman during sand volleyball. I'll "be outie." I'll start to pick up on your laugh. I'll share the dishwashing duties with one hand behind my back. I'll sleep in a cardboard box in a basement. I'll be the Satan to your Jesus. I'll sneak some awkward minnow. I'll ask for 8 kids and pout about the papers. And I'll hold your hand, and I'll know that it's OK.
I hope to see you and your beautiful heart again-
more in my life.