Oh Little NC Home of Mine

There is something to be said about turning a house into a home and a home into your own, wonderful little hide out. After traveling from place to place and/or sitting in a teeny car for hours (see below if you dare), even a 2 month home seems so wonderfully permanent. It's not so much having the perfect space or the right colors or the number of rooms or light fixtures... no sir.

(This photo brought to you by 'trying to stay awake until 4:45am')

Home.

It's the space heater. I never used or cared much a dilly about space heaters. I don't think I've ever liked or much thought about space heaters. Hm. Here I am cozied up on the floor next to my space heater.

It's the nails on the walls that allow you to turn wood and drywall into canvas. Because despite what anyone says, everyone needs this in their kitchen.

It's the ladybugs that pop up here and there now and again. Not a pesky number, just one or two. Little cute buggers.

It's waking up and having your own kitchen cabinets to put your treasures in.

It's having a husband that comes home every night with big smiles and kisses.

It's having wedding playlists playing while you wash dishes.

It's having your own refrigerator to hang the darnedest things.

It's doing mitt work in the living room.

It's being budget-ey and creative, but also being blessed with provision from a wonderful and caring God (who gives me cabbage, tomatoes, and spinach- all is well).

It's the 16 pineapples you have all over the house as decorations.

It's saying 'good morning' and 'good night' in a cozy bed with cozy blankets.

All in all, our little home in NC is temporary for about 2 months until we head out of state (again!), but God has been so good in our travels and staying-put-for-now moments. 

Here's to the memories we're building in our little home sweet NC home!

In Which I Finally Chime In (Part 1)

It has been said that the first sentence is always the hardest to write. I’d like to voice my approval of that statement, especially when you’re writing means more to you than anything else on Earth.

Notice that I used that cliché as a first sentence. No, that’s not cheating.

Anyways, my name is Jacob Clifton, and I have something to say. In fact, I have a good deal to say. Down here in the South, a cliché abounds about strong, silent men, and their gabby wives. Fortunately, I’m just as gabby as any wife, and a good deal more opinionated. So for my opening of my side of “our” story, you’re going to be reading a lot about me.

That’s right. Me. You see, to truly understand my side of the story, you’ll have to understand me (or give it a good ol’ college try).

So, for the sake of artistry (and ease of writing), we’re going to travel back twenty months ago, to a house in Western North Carolina, and let the memories I have of who I was (and what I felt) take over the keyboard. Naturally, I don’t remember every exact thought that crossed my mind at the time, but the feelings and memories I remember, and those moments will dictate this narrative.

…….

It was the evening of the Seventh of June. And I was bored.

It had been a long day, and although I hadn’t done anything particularly interesting, I was tired. I just let my mind wander around as I mindlessly scrolled through various web pages that didn’t interest me (an activity we’re all familiar with).

My mind wandered to the girl I worked with at a local campground. She was cute. My sister, as usual, disapproved of my lady-friend. She always did. Sure, I’d had a dozen or so over the years, but still. I didn’t understand it. Why, she had even grown to hate..... The only one who had-

No, I wouldn’t go back there. I had passed that point, right? God has pulled me through it, just me and God. I was alright. Strong, self-sufficient.

I refreshed the “Exercise and Health Bonanza” topic on the Collegeplus Forums for the twelfth time in the past two minutes, for no particular reason. On this forum thread, I had made the grave mistake of mistaking a girl for a guy. Any decent person would have been horrified, but not I- I thrived off of the unusual and atypical.  I’d mastered the art of being unique and confident, and it’s amazing how girls fall in love with cocky guys.

Refresh.

Refresh.

Something caught my eye. No, not a new post, but something I had expected to occur. A certain young woman named Bethany had changed her profile picture. You see, she’s the one I had mistaken for a guy. I couldn’t even make out what her profile picture was of, but all I know is some person name “Kiaikid” who was passionate about fitness has fooled me into believing she was a guy.

And now she was a girl. The change of picture made that obvious.

I did a quick mental analysis of her physical appearance. Hmm. T-shirt and a skirt- typical of a hippy girl who probably is clueless about life. She was beautiful, in her own right, and she had changed her picture for me- that’s obvious. I had already mapped out the expected turn of events. It would go something like this:

Me: So I see you changed your picture.

Bethany: Yes, I did. You see, I really am a girl! Haha. Or maybe I still look like a guy in that picture.

Me: No, you strongly represent a very attractive female. You sure that’s really you?

Bethany: Yes! That’s me… and thank you (: You’re sweet (:

It was like taking candy from a baby. I had mastered the art of wooing. I was no Crunch Hardtack with thirty-inch biceps, or Johnny Cool with the flowing hair. My methods were infinitely more signature, and brought me a good deal of pride. Why, not too long before, every girl in my high school class (ten) had a crush on me.

So, in the natural course of events, I sent her a Private Message:

Nice picture ;P

Hmmm. A little bit silly looking. Perhaps the idiotic emoticon was not-needed. Either way, the conversation had started. It was going to go as expected.

Refresh.

Refresh.

Ah! She had responded:

Thanks! As you can see, I am female most of the time, although I distinctly hate female attire, and feel much more at home in unflattering sweatpants. But, I decided to change it for you, which was probably a mistake because you’re probably not worth my time. Anyways, how are you?

Well this is shocking.

That sort of response wasn’t supposed to happen. What was I supposed to say to that? Did this mean we were going to have to have a normal conversation?

What followed was a lengthy banter of witticisms, insults, and pleasantries. Was it fun? Yes. But I emerged with a sour taste in my mouth. Nothing irks me worse than not getting what I had expected or wanted. One thing I can say for certain though, this girl had guts. And I definitely wanted to talk to her again.

I went to bed thoughtful, needless to say.

Part Twenty Seven: What Next?

"And to your favorite song, 

we sang along to the start of forever..."

-Paramore

Trip #6 has come and gone. The funny part is, each trip has SO much build up and then... it's gone. But there's one thing to be glad about, I suppose: I'm onto another countdown!

Leading up to trip #6 was interesting, to say the least. The week after I returned from my trip, I was scheduled to head over to Portsmouth, NH for my first ever Crossfit competition- something that was both a distraction from my 'I miss Jacob' grumpiness, but also a conductor. I was stressed and scared and it made me miss him all the more.

For my first competition I did pretty well- 4th in my division (never mind how poorly the judging was, or the fact that people cheated... still. It was a good experience!). I got rather lost on the way home, came home feeling like a truck hit me, and spent the next few days wondering if I was going to die.

Once the excitement and nonsense of that wore off, things kinda suck into a sad, dark little valley. I was writing a new curriculum for a nunchuck program I'm starting up in 2014, Jacob was at the end of football (and appropriately dealing with everything that entailed, including a never ending ankle injury), I was teaching martial arts, he was teaching math, and it felt like November 9th would NEVER come. There were lots of sniffles (more than I care to admit). There were days I felt like I couldn't take it. It wasn't much fun.

The week before departure week, I had come off of a very long, very emotional weekend. I was overly pondersome and unable to focus on a darn thing. I kept wondering if I was still supposed to be in NH, if I wasn't supposed to pack up and go to NC. I didn't know if I was in the right place at all and it made everything purposeless.

The idea of 'bloom where you're planted' just didn't come naturally to me. If I was in a temporary 'planting' zone, I didn't want to bloom at all. I didn't see the point. There was no one to see the flowers anyways, right? And yes, I reminded myself that even though I didn't have Jacob, God was always with me and would always be with me. I knew he would always guide every step. Still, all the prayers, Bible reading, phone calls with Jacob... nothing filled the hole. I felt compelled to act, but I didn't want to take a step out of desperation.

If anyone can relate to this at all, please sympathize. Please ;)

In the middle of all this frustration, I was also dealing with a lot of back/neck/shoulder pain of which I couldn't quite determine the source. With Crossfit, competitions, martial arts, and of course, normal wear and tear, I didn't know what I was doing wrong. Regardless, I had to skip out on Crossfit for almost two weeks- may not sound like much, but for me, it was a LONG time.

Skipping out on that became rather old. I was still doing other training, but with the Fenway Park Spartan Race coming up soon (i.e. This Saturday. Uh oh...), I knew I needed to get put back together so I could get my act together. The trip to the chiropractor proved to be a lot different than I had anticipated.

It turned out that the pain and 'out' feeling I was experiencing was because yes, my spine/shoulders/neck were out, but the reason they were out was because of a nerve firing in my T4. The nerve firing in my T4 was because of my gallbladder.

Hold up. I'm not supposed to hear the word 'gallbladder' come out of any doctor's mouth in my presence until I'm 84, so this can't be right. But yes. Read on.

The reason my gallbladder was showing up (and resulting in making my back a poorly constructed skeletal model) was one of two reasons: extremely poor diet (guffaw) or extreme frustration, stress, and over emotional-ness.

Huh.

I'll let you draw your conclusions.

I sat there in that chiropractor's office feeling a little funny. I'd been praying for God to help me deal with all that I was feeling, now I was hearing that my body was sick and tired of all this waiting and frustration.

"Is this 'stress' going to be ending anytime soon?" My chiropractor asked.

I didn't know what to say. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't help it. Even when I wasn't consciously frustrated, I knew I was always frustrated and missing Jacob. But with only a week-ish left until I was would see him again, I would try my best to forget about it. I would determine what would happen soon enough.

Trip #6 is something a few of you had asked about before it happened. Well, here's the report. This trip was a blessing in so many ways, I don't know where to start! Our families all got to meet, ALL TOGETHER, for the first time. And guess what? It was a party all day long.

In addition, I got to watch Jacob's last football game. This, despite however small a part of the trip it was, was a huge thing for me. I knew the feeling of playing the last game of your favorite sport. When I finished my final season of field hockey, it was a strange feeling- something that made you cry, sweat, and feel complete achievement... all gone with one final game. I sympathized with Jacob on this, but even more than this, it was a clear indication to both Jacob and I as well as our families, that this season of life was coming to a close and another one would soon be starting.

As the final minutes of his game ticked down and we all made our way over to the sidelines, I was there to give Momma Clifton a hug.

"He played a really good game," I told her with a smile. "You alright?"

"Oh yes," she said as she wiped away what I strongly suspected were tears. "I can't believe he's all done now. But I'm very excited about what's next for him."

She gave me tight squeeze and I felt a little bit like crying too, for some reason.

After the game Jacob's ankle was more wrecked than before, so between hobbling and sibling chaos, the stage was set for the rest of the trip.

Both Jacob and I got sick.

I stole Jacob's shirt. And sweatshirt. And that's all, I think.

We looked up airfare.

We went on a shopping excursion.

We watched movies.

We played basketball.

We froze to death at a bonfire.

We ate peanut butter like there was no tomorrow (ahem, Aubrey).

We took wild photos (I'll be posting those soon!).

We did the chocolate dance. Yeah.

We had a birthday party for my 8 year old sister.

We had wild car rides.

We ate (actually, no) sweet potato chips that tasted like the dirt of the earth. Sorry, Momma C.

But above all, this trip was the best yet- in complete honesty. I've never felt as trusting, close, or open with Jacob then I did this past trip. Being sick in a home other than your own isn't always fun. Being tired and a bit worn out (okay, a lot worn out) and still having multiple social obligations to dance around doesn't always feel so good. But despite everything, despite anything that could have been a potential trip wrecker, this trip was amazing.

But now I'm in NH again. I'm living away from home until I can figure out the next trip. And yes, the question still plagues me- what next? But regardless, I know God will guide me. He will show me what's next, he will show us what's next.

But what about my chiropractic issue, you say? Well. It's (ironically) started flaring up as soon as I got home. Between being sick and dealing with that, I'm nervous like heck about this Saturday's race. Whatever. I'll run for all the snot that's in my body ;) Oh, and maybe for Jacob, too.

So that's where we're at now.

Nowhere in particular. But...

Hope is on the way. I can feel it.

Part Twenty Five: Of 2nd Birthdays, Layovers, and the Return to NC

"If home is where the heart is

 Then my home is where you are,

But it's getting oh so hard

 to spend these days without my heart..."

-Relient K

Summer rolled on at it's own speed. Classes came and went for me, I ran a Spartan Race, I kept busy, but in the end my life was a bit on hold every time Jacob and I were apart. I went to what felt like a bazillion weddings (2, to be exact), met some cool CPers (2, to be exact), and sent a lot of texts (more than 2, actually).

Trip #4 would be in North Carolina and for the first time ever, Jacob and I would get to see each other in person for our birthday(s). Armed only with my lack of intelligence and my sister Becki, trip #4 was probably one of the best trips yet.

Trip recap, anyone?

-The flight to North Carolina was... unique. We had a late start due to problems with our plane, a 3 hour layover in PA, and a little bit of free (anxious and nervous, too) time to watch Psych and act like hooligans. NOTE: frozen chicken shouldn't be eaten for breakfast at 6am in an airport.

-No matter what the day or how little sleep, we always have time for a workout. Unless you're Jacob and you have a football game, in which case you do school instead. Goodie ;)

-Football games are twice as fun when you know a certain hotty snotty on the team. Ahem.

-Life in Clifton house is only for those who can stand the oddness of it.

-Birthdays are best when you get hip birthday presents.

-Last minute photoshoots that make you look like you got shot.

By the time the trip ended (complete with singing Relient K Christmas songs on the car ride back to the airport), we had gotten closer yet again. Yes, I bawled my eyes out on the late flight home. Yes, I left notes for Jacob to find in his house. Yes, I was on my phone texting Jacob as soon as he was gone. Yes, I was feeling lonely all over again. But there was a new realization in my heart: things were changing.

Just last fall, I was just another college kid without a clue. This fall, I had too many clues to know what to do with. It's all a matter of perspective, I suppose. It's all a matter of trusting God and giving up all the unknowns to the greatest and highest.

Summer was over. Fall was beginning. This time last year, I was uncertain. This time this year, I was still a little uncertain... but for different reasons.

Only time and prayer would tell.

Part Twenty One: Of Leaving and Feeling Alone

"All that I'm after is a life full of laughter
Without you God knows what I'd do..."

-Daughtry 

The next morning was hard. Very hard. I was running on too little sleep, I didn't want to go anywhere, and the reality of leaving Jacob was setting in fast. For the first time in my life, I felt as if I was a part of someone else. For the first time, I felt like a part of something bigger.

Around 6am, I helped my mom and sisters pack everything up. There was a cold feeling in my chest that wouldn't go away as I surveyed the dark living room. I'd only been here for a short while, but I was going to miss this place so, so much. 

There was a rigidity to my movements. Mentally, I knew I had to leave. On the inside however, I wasn't ready. I couldn't leave. The pain of watching Jacob drive away was still all too fresh. How could I possible move on? I didn't want to drive away. I didn't want to fly away. There had to be someway I could avoid this.

But there wasn't anything else to do besides pack up the car, turn off the lights, and lock the door. There was nothing else. There was just an empty house, an empty heart, and miles to drive. I hadn't the time or ability to stay any longer. All the sand had run out of the hourglass. All the minutes had run off the clock.

It was still dark as we drove away. Even as the sun did come up and even as the miles past, the hole in my heart didn't go away. Every inch that took me further away from him hurt just a little more.

The radio was on and "Life After You" by Daughtry was playing. I couldn't really take the irony and yes... I started crying (not surprising, considering my past experiences). We were about 30 minutes into our drive to the airport.

I was going through the motions as we got closer to leaving the state. I texted Jacob, called Jacob, and thought about Jacob. By the time I was on the plane and watching North Carolina disappear into a green haze beneath me, I was completely gone. I was surrounded by strangers and unknown faces, but I didn't care. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry, but still the tears escaped despite my best efforts. I tried sleeping, I tried to think about something else... but all I could see was Jacob everywhere I looked.

Every second I lamented the distance that was creeping back between us, but despite the protesting in my heart, there was nothing I could do. This was it. We were back in New England. The trip was over.

The drive home from Boston felt just as bland and empty as everything else. I still couldn't believe how fast everything had happened. Jacob was gone, and I was alone once again. How could I have been by myself for so long and not have known that there was a piece missing in me?

Driving home from Boston in my car, Burton Gasket.
Yes. That's what I call my car.
Sometimes I call it Gus or The Strawberry, but you know.

And before long, it truly was just a memory. I was at my house once again. I was unpacking. I was getting ready to return to normal life.

Still, I wandered around the house I'd lived in for so long feeling like a stranger. This house would never truly be home again. North Carolina wasn't my home. New Hampshire wasn't my home. Where was home? 

I didn't know anymore.

I was glad to see my brothers and dad again, but I dreaded the thought of trying to go back to teaching and school the next day. There was no way I could move forward. Yes, I had to return to New Hampshire, but I couldn't return to the way things were. I just couldn't. How could I when I was suddenly so aware of that missing piece?

I wish there was something to say that could accurately describe those days after our first meeting. It was hard. It was very hard. I struggled, cried, prayed, wondered, cried out, and had days that I barely survived. I would wish desperately I could collapse and just forget about the world, but that wasn't an option. I had to be strong on my own. It was all I had. It was what he would want.

A month passed slowly but surely. People around me told me I seemed different and to be honest, I was. I was deeper. I felt more matured. I had experienced a love that I never knew could exist. I was in awe of a romance that crossed state lines, changed opinions, and broke down barriers. I was in awe of a God who was putting me through a pain so real, beautiful, and hard that I couldn't fully understand why or how. All I could do was trust in the fact that God wasn't done with us yet.

It was now April 7th, 2012. It had been a rough weekend. What had started off as some late Saturday evening pangs of aloneness grew and grew until I could practically taste the anxiety. I could feel it rubbing holes in the sides of my stomach. I could feel it beating down the walls of security around my heart. I didn't want to burden Jacob with my insecurities and loneliness.

I stayed up too late Saturday night talking to Debbie, crying over my keyboard, and not sleeping. I was exhausted. My head still hurt from a training sustained concussion, and I was worn out from the previous week. Go to bed. Please.

But even in the morning I wasn't feeling better. I felt empty again. I tried to reason with myself by saying I shouldn't miss him this much. I tried to make myself believe I was being a silly, emotionally stirred up wreck, but it wasn't working.

I missed Jacob. A lot. Nothing could console that.

He texted me around 9am. I was washing dishes and doing laundry while 3 sick kids hung out in the living room. My parents and Tim were getting ready to go to church while I prepped my role as home nurse. I wanted to match his cheery outlook, but I was torn. Should I go along and pretend I'm okay? Should I admit I still felt awful? I chose to be honest, however depressing.

We struggled back and forth via text in trying to make me feel better, but eventually he just called me.

"Will you promise not to kill each other if I get on the phone?" I asked the sickies from their stations on the couch.

They promised and I ran to answer my phone.

Within the first 5 seconds of hearing his voice, I was tearing up again. His poor, scratchy, sick voice... he had been sick for a few days now. He told me to find somewhere to sit and to close my eyes. I did just that, but the hot tears were leaking out nonetheless. 

He prayed for me. He prayed for me like I needed to hear. If there was no other reason I would love Jacob Clifton, I would love him simply for how he prays for me. He knows just what I need to hear. He doesn't say it for that reason, though. He says it because he believes it. He says it because he is a man of God who has conviction and loves me for who I am.

I felt like trash. I felt like a disaster. I felt worn out, sick, helpless... but he prayed for me nevertheless. Unfortunately, the wild carousing I could hear from upstairs reminded me that I needed to end the phone call. Still feeling decently hopeless, I said a solemn farewell and wiped the tears from my eyes to deal with whatever chaos was happening. Why? So I could get on the phone with Jacob again, of course!

I called him back to remind him none of what I was feeling was his fault. None of it. It was just so, so hard... but he knew that. We tried to make each other feel better. We laughed as best we could. We reminisced. We reminded ourselves of why this was so important. Hang up the phone again and go back to texting. Try to make yourself feel better, try and try again.

We were both shaken up. We were both crying because of how utterly and completely lost we both felt.

I prayed. I don't even remember what I said. I do remember ending the prayer and as we both fumbled for anything to make the other feel better, I managed to say the following: "Hard things take hard people. You and I are hard people. It took a lot for God to change us. And if we can withstand God working on us, we can withstand this."

I don't know where that came from, but it made me feel better, anyway.

"There's something I need to tell you," he got out.

"What?"

"I'm coming."

"What!?"

"I talked to my dad. In May. I'm coming in May. I'm coming for you, Beth."

Oh my my my.

Part Twenty: Of Saying Goodbye, Part 2

It's dark. We've arrived. Becki gets out of the car and I can hear Jacob telling me it's time. All I can say is no, no... no. Please no. But still, I know he's right. I numbly climb out of the safety of shotgun for the last time. It's dark but I can see Becki hugging Jacob one last time. I put my computer bag down against the rear tire of the van and hope that this final scene before me is just a dream. I don't want to see this. I'm not ready for this.

Becki turns and walks towards the house. In the darkness, Jacob and I stare at each other with half smiles as if trying to cover up what is happening. A second later my face is buried into him and my breathing becomes ragged with sobs because here in this safety and this closeness, I don't have to go home. 

I am home. 

Maybe that's why this is so hard. I don't want to go back to NH because that's not home. This is home. I'm home with him. I'm home here.

I'm crying now, but I'm not afraid to admit it. Full out, snotty nose, red eyes, smushed makeup, wild hair, ugly sniffling... that kind of crying. I keep my arms locked tightly around him, feeling the pressure against him reminds me that he is real for now and forever. The air is getting colder. The wind isn't strong, but it's strong enough. The silence around us is building, pushing, and pulling us to the point we don't want to reach.

"I don't want to go... tell me I don't have to go," I sob.

He's saying all the right things, he's not letting me go, he's making me love him even more than ever.

"Why don't you pray," he asks gently.

"Dear God... please stop my nose from running," I laugh through the tears. That's all I can do to be funny. The rest is too hurtful to even smile. "Dear God, thank you for putting things together... and pulling things apart..."

About 35 minutes later, we've made it from the roadway to the porch, but still no good. We can't let go. We can only hold onto each other because in the morning I'll be gone and he'll be back to work. I'll be a shrinking dot on the skyline headed back to another world. I'll be waking up wishing this dream could have been a bit more real. I'll be waking up wishing I could have stayed. I'll be waking up wondering why this couldn't have had a different ending.

But sometimes you need a moment of tears for the final happy ending to be as happy as it should be.

In the pale starlight and yellow flicker of the porch light, I can see just how beautiful his eyes really are. Just a hint red from what I suspect to be tears, but not nearly as red as my own at the moment. Blue, green, and gold. The most beautiful eyes I've ever seen and they are staring back at mine.

"I could stay here all night," he says quietly.

"You've got to go, you've got to go," I hear myself respond, but I don't want him to go at all. I want to stay here, my head tipped towards his. We're terribly close and far at the same time.

I'm crying again, sniffling all the way. My face is buried in his shoulder now, my hands locked around his waist holding on for dear life. I'm shivering. He keeps pulling back to see my face and say something to make everything better. 

I slide my hands to his arms and try to believe everything he's saying. I try to steady my breathing before hugging him again. I'm saying 'okay' a whole lot, but it's not okay. It's not okay. He brushes my hair out of my face. Oh, my hair is a mess. I'm a mess. This night is almost the morning. It's not okay...

He turns me to look out past the dark, looming treetops to a canopy overhead.

"You see that star? That's our star. Of course, by tomorrow night, we'll think our star is that star, and the next night that star..."

"Can they all be our stars?" I ask softly.

"This is way better than any stupid chick flick," he remarks with half a smile.

We try to be funny. We try to make the last few minutes before the final farewell as perfect and lovely as we can. There's no denying it, however. 

This is hard. This is going to hurt. This is going to leave a hole in my chest that won't go away, because I won't want to try and fill it with anything else.

"I want my last words to you to be... I love you," he whispers into my hair.

"I want my last words to be... I love you more," I choke through tears and a forced laugh.

"I wish I could come up with better last words."

"What about we just say goodbye?"

I don't remember if I said goodbye or not. All I know is he takes my hand in his and starts to walk to the stairs. I follow him down to the last step. He keeps walking. I stand still. My fingers slip past his and run down his shoulder like they have so many times this weekend. But as my fingers run down his shoulder and hit the empty air, I know that's it. 

No more. No more for now. For now, it's empty once again.

I watch cold and alone as his shadow walks further into the darkness towards that stupid minivan. I can't see anything, but I think he turns and looks back at me. I hug myself tighter, afraid that if I cry he will come running back. I want him to come running back. I want to go running to him. 

For a split second I consider sprinting out into the darkness back into the warmth of his arms.

Not now. Not now. Now I need to be strong and stand alone. I almost change my mind. I almost run to him. 

But the moment is past. He climbs into the car. The tail lights glow in the darkness. The car goes in reverse. My heart goes in reverse.

As he drives away, I watch until I can't see the lights any longer, then slump to the steps and cry like I've never cried before. Why didn't I run to him? Why couldn't I have stopped him? Why, why did I need to get on that plane tomorrow? Why couldn't I stay?

I look up at the stars, at our stars... and it only gets worse.

Soon this night will only be a distant memory, something I can pull out when I need a reminder of what love is and how strong is can be. Soon the chill I feel all over my body will be washed away. Soon the touch of his fingers against my own will be an evaporated dream. Soon he'll be just a picture on a mental shelf. 

For now. Someday I'll never have to say goodbye. Someday I'll be with him forever, every single day I'll be with him.

But until then, it's just me.

I'm heartbroken, but I know one thing with complete certainty.

I love him. I love him more than anything else in this world. Whatever God is up to, it is good. 

I know this. 

The distance is going to hurt me, but I'd rather have this hurt than never have met Jacob. 

Exhausted and still red eyed, I bury my face in the hands that had until recently been entwined with his. 

Under our stars, I cry for all the things I miss so much already.

"Near, far, wherever you are

I believe that the heart does go on..."

You're here in my heart, and my heart will go on.