Lone Star Soul | Part One of Fireflies

Remember the pain of watching little girls try to deal with their grief.

The silent tears in an attempt to act grown up and keep it together, but not knowing where to draw strength from. Tears coming off and on, struggling to maintain some sense of normalcy. Red eyes and shaking shoulders, clinging to the surrounding people for comfort. Crying too hard to breathe, too young to completely understand what's happening. 

The 'I love yous' keep getting stuck in my throat because I cry when I say them and crying gives me a headache. They're harder to say than they used to be but I say them anyway because it's a privilege to be hurt by some people.

Oh, dear heaven, but why does it have to hurt so much?

I cried again when I had to say goodbye. Out of love and fear that it might be the last time. I just have to remember the feeling of her little hand in mine to pull me through until I see her again. I hate saying goodbye, but never getting the chance to say it is worse. 


It's dark outside, but I think I see the light.

Three Weeks

I'm moving out in 21 days.

My life is about to start for real, and I will have to do things on my own. I'm excited for it, but also terrified, not because I don't think I can handle it, but because I'm afraid of losing people.

My room is almost entirely packed up. The walls are bare, the closet shelves are empty, and the floor is filled with boxes. They serve as just another reminder that it's coming to an end.

My prayers are mostly for peace and reassurance for myself, and for the people I care about to know that I care. And although it remains unspoken, I pray that I will have the strength to tell them what they mean to me. And to tell them goodbye. But I'm still afraid of losing them.

What if I'm so busy that I forget to remember the people I love? I'll see Colorado on a map and realize that I haven't seen them in three years and suddenly I'll miss them so much that I'll drive out to see them because I'm afraid I might not ever get the chance again.

What if at my high school reunions I see someone I used to be close to and realize how selfish and horrible I am for not caring about them after graduation? I'd probably stop going to those reunions, that's what.

What if that sweet little girl is ten before I see her again and what if she sees death but I'm not there for her like I want to be because I'm too busy with myself?

What if I never see her again? What if I never get the chance to say goodbye and I spend the rest of this life trying to remember if I told her I loved her?

What if I live a fast-paced life in some distant city and people become less important to me compared to the lively restlessness of Seattle or Dallas or New York City?

What if I get so caught up in my own desires, ambitions, and problems that I fail to think of others?

I think my life would be easier if I stopped asking so many 'what if' questions.

Motion Picture Friendship

I got a letter from him the other day. I felt the tears pool in my eyes. I closed them and remembered.

Rewind.

The first time I ever had a real  conversation with him. We convinced him to come with us and he sang along with me as I played the piano. He danced with a sad old woman and it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

Fast forward.

Uncertainty over whether or not we could actually be friends. He swept me into his arms and ran down the hall singing to me. I invited him to come surprise a friend but he had work. We started calling each other.

Play.

I waited for him to pick me up. He did. He drove me to the overlook. He told me about his favorite music group and I told him about the problems in my love life. He read me poetry and told me about his mistakes. And I trusted him because I knew I could.

Fast forward.

He met me at the park and I read him a poem. I called him on the way to work. He called at two in the morning. I went to his house. He played the guitar and sang to me. I helped him pack the lunch for his date. He asked me if he looked all right. I told him he did. He was adorably nervous.

Play. 

Worst shift ever. I called him and he met me in a parking lot. I couldn't talk because I was crying too hard. He waited patiently while I cried into his shoulder. He kept his arm around me and stroked my hair. He helped me figure out what was wrong and almost convinced me to go get something to eat with him. But I went home. I didn't tell my parents.

Fast forward.

Numerous games of phone tag. I surprised him at work. Late night conversations. He met me at the park again to talk. I couldn't believe he was my friend. He came to a play with me and my sister. She's the only member of my family who's ever met him. We went out for shakes afterward. He was going to pay but they were free.

Play.

He took me out to eat when I was having an awful day. He listened while I talked and then gave me relationship advice. Meaning advice on how to deal with my would-be ex-crush. He took me back to my car and I went home feeling much better. I didn't tell my parents.

Fast forward.

I called him during school. He listened. He tried to help me work through my problems and it mostly worked.

Play.

I saw him unexpectedly and ran into his arms for a hug. He lifted me up and spun me around.

Pause.

I was happy to see him. And he was happy to see me too.

Play.

We met in another parking lot at 10:30. We didn't have long but it was all right.

Mute.

What we said wasn't important. Or it was too important to me to share it. But I felt safe there.

Unmute.

I called him while I waited to pick up my mom from the airport. We talked for almost half an hour. I stopped being afraid to call after that. I stopped worrying when he didn't pick up the phone.

Fast forward. Play.

He picked me up around midnight. Frank Sinatra playing in the background. I didn't tell my parents.

Pause. Fast forward.

It hurts to remember so much.

Play.

Overwhelmed by guilt. I called him. He told me never to blame myself because it wasn't my fault. I felt a little better.

Fast forward. Play.

He visited me at work, and when I got off we drove down State Street looking for 24-hour Chinese food. The nearest one was in Vegas. We considered driving there but decided against it. I got home after midnight. I didn't tell my parents.

Fast forward.

The last time it felt normal. All I knew was that I needed to see him one more time to return something I had of his.

Play.

I showed up at his house to give it back, but mostly to say goodbye. Now I wish I hadn't given it back because then I'd still have a piece of him to hold onto. It scared him to see me sitting on his porch. He found out how well I know him. I found out how well he knows me. We exchanged too many 'goodbyes' and 'I love yous' and 'I'll miss yous.' After he left I went to the overlook and finally cried. When I feel alone I go there. I feel less alone. I feel closer to him. But I wish I could have gotten one more hug.

Stop.

I got a letter from him the other day. There were tears in my eyes because he told me to hold on, that I've always been strong. That's because I always felt strong around him. But I don't feel strong now. I feel terrified.

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I got a letter from you the other day. I felt the tears in my eyes. When I opened them I let the tears fall. 

I miss you.

Catch Me, I'm Falling

I'm not going to fall.

Every time I fall I wish for someone to catch me because I can't stop it on my own. It's easier to just keep my distance, to never put myself in a position where I could fall in the first place.

But really it's not that easy.

I don't want to fall.

I'm not afraid of the flying but I'm afraid of the falling because no matter how many times I've fallen, he's never been there to catch me. 

I'm tired of waiting for someone to catch me because every time I hit the ground I have to pick myself up again, more bruised and battered than the time before.

My heart hurts too much to want to fall again.

I'm not falling.

The exhilaration is almost worth it, but not quite. I won't let myself fall again.

As if it's that simple. Which it's not.

I keep reminding myself that the little things he does may mean the world to me but mean nothing to him because he's just the kind of person who makes people happy. 

I'm going to fall.

Please be there to catch me. I don't know if I can take this again.

Why did he have to put his arm around me? Why did he have to know just what to say? Why did he have to make me so happy? And why do those things make me question myself?

I want to fall.

But I know I shouldn't. I really shouldn't. So why do I still want to?

I just have to wait for someone who's there to catch me at the bottom. Right?

I'm think I'm falling.

Don't. Please, don't because then you'll fall and he won't be there to catch you at the bottom.

He never has been before.

Five Things I Miss About Her

1. How she laughed, simply because there wasn't a reason not to

2. Being able to talk to her and know that she cared about me and my life

3. The sound of her voice, which I'm trying so hard not to forget

4. Her hugs, which I treasure because I got so few 

5. The memories, because I can't make them with her anymore

The Hole

My dear little cousin,

You don't know me. You never saw my face, never heard the sound of my voice, never felt my hand touch yours. You don't know my name. But I know yours, Caleb.

There's this hole in my chest, Caleb, and it keeps getting bigger. Now you've widened it just a little more. You've made it large enough that your tiny hand could probably fit inside. I wish I could have met you.

I don't have words to describe what love is, but if it's anything, it's giving someone the power to hurt you in places that may never heal. Somehow I gave you that power, despite the fact that I never even met you.

I'm repeatedly struck by the injustice of it all. Thousands of women abort their babies each year but after 29 weeks of pregnancy and 7 months of fighting for your life, my sweet aunt didn't get to keep you. It's so unfair, but as you've probably learned better than most of us, life just isn't fair.

It sounds strange, but I'm happy for you, because you're free, Caleb. You're finally free from the painfully low oxygen levels and endless hospital walls that were your sky. Probably the only sky you ever knew. You just got to go home sooner than the rest of us, I guess. And although your life has ended, our love for you will not end. It does not end, you hear me? It will continue forever. I promise.

No matter where you are now, remember what your mom told you not long ago. That the numbers on the ventilator didn't matter, and that it was all right if you were tired because they would sleep next to you that night. That it was okay to go back to heaven and rest in the arms of our Savior. And that she loves you to heaven and back. I'm sure your angel friends were there to welcome you in.

I still wish I'd gotten to meet you. It's hard to say goodbye before I ever said hello, and sometimes it's hard to keep believing, but Caleb, I know I'll get to meet you someday. I just know it. And I can't wait for that day.

I love you to heaven and back.
Xoxo
Your cousin

If I Had One Phone Call

Hi, Grandma. 

Are you there?

I miss you. It's funny how I never realized just how much you meant to me until you were gone.

Does time go any faster or slower up there? Are you happier there than you were here? I hope so, because that would make me feel a lot better.

Can you hear me? I'm not supposed to pray to you, but sometimes I do anyway. Do you listen to me, or are you too busy doing more important things?

I love you. I was thinking about you today and about how loving you set me up to have my heart broken again.

You broke my heart, Grandma. I know you didn't try to, but when you died a part of me went with you.

But I don't regret loving you.

I'll talk to you later, okay? I love you.

Goodbye.