Jason read Chapter 4 of my story the other night.
When he was done, he rolled over and put his arms around me and whispered 'I'm sorry dear.'
* * * * *
I would like to say that I was okay after opening the wedding announcement.
Not for such a long time.
And it wasn't just that the boy I loved didn't choose me.
It was so much more than that.
The fragile trust I had gained in men shattered again, and I was left not having a clue how to pick up the pieces.
I built a wall so high and thick around my heart; I never wanted to go through pain like I had just experienced again.
I cried for weeks...for months probably...and lived my life in a daze.
Not only was I heart broken, but I had lost one of my dearest friends, and that homesick feeling that I described earlier, was stronger than ever.
I finished my under graduate degree and was trying to decide where to go next with my life.
I hadn't dated anyone but I was quite unapproachable.
I had guy friends but they were safe because I knew I wouldn't develop feelings for them.
It had been over a year since the boy I loved had gotten married, and I had decided that I wanted to serve a mission for my church.
I filled out all of the necessary paperwork, and waited for my assignment.
Six weeks before I was to leave for New York City, where I serve as a missionary, a guy from church asked me out.
We had been friends for a long time, and I liked him.
He was the first guy I had liked since 'the boy I loved.'
I agreed to go out with him and we had a great time.
We dated for a few weeks, and the more I saw him the more I liked him.
I knew that I was leaving for NYC though, and it made it easier to have fun with him without putting too much emotion into anything.
Dating him made me realize that I could possibly develop feelings for someone else, and I had hope.
Just two weeks before I was to leave for NYC I had a set back.
I ran into the parents of the boy I had loved.
The happiness I felt at seeing them (because I had truly loved them) was coupled with a recurring heartache as I listened to them tell me that the boy I had loved had a new little baby.
We talked for quite a while, and when they hugged me as they were leaving, the mom said, "my son will be so happy to know that we saw you and that you are doing so well with your life. He loved his association with you."
I drove to my mom's office, with tears streaming down my face, and I sat on the floor of her office and cried for an hour.
* * * * *
I know now that part of my pain came not because my relationship ended, but rather by how it ended.
I never had closure.
I never got to say goodbye.
I never got to say anything.
One day the boy I loved was part of my life, and the next he wasn't...and it took me years to get over that part of the hurt.
Sadly, the relationships that I invested the most emotion into all ended in a similar way.
* * * * *
I learned and grew and developed my best friendships while I was in NYC.
And at the end of my 18 months there, I knew I was a better person.
I came home and continued my education and eventually graduated from college.
In all of that time, I never had a serious relationship with anyone.
I developed crushes...I felt attraction...I had fun with guys...but the wall around my heart was still in place, and I was still afraid of being hurt.
One night I was talking with my dad and told him quite seriously, "Dad, I want to go to Mexico again. Can you make that happen?"
With what was probably a little bit of divine intervention, Dad did make it happen, and before too long we were on a plane going back to where it all started.
It was almost ten years to the day, from the time I first went to Mexico to that day our plane landed.
And I was hoping beyond all hope that the experience of this trip would finally fill the hole in my heart that had never healed.