Wednesday in the Word

Happy early 4th of July to my American friends in the United States! It's always been a little strange to me that we claim the title of "American", though technically all of North AND South America can be called "American". I hope this past month has been treating you well!

It has been such a blessed month for myself, with my friend giving birth, helping out with a variety of events, and also getting to play with a lot of flowers. I am also working on honing in on my writing style, and taking some classes for fun (I'm a nerd, I know). I hope that the past month has been just as fruitful for you all :)

Ecclesiastes 3 has been on my mind lately:

A Time for Everything "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die;" - Ecclesiastes 3:1-2

Despite the celebration and life that has been going on in June, I found out very recently that a high school friend passed away earlier last month. Guilt ate at me that I found out through a friend, who found out through a friend, who had found out from a friend - 3 degrees of separation.

He was a very kind person, very mature for his age from what I remember. I wasn't romantically attracted to or involved with him, but I know that at one point, he called me his first love. I don't know if he still thought so of me at the end, but he was very sweet. Maybe I was too immature then to accept his persistent advances. To be honest, I had my heart set on someone else, and it was hard for me to even consider anyone else. I did end up going to Homecoming with him once, but even then, it was very clearly platonic on my end.

I remember that despite being quiet, he was very smart, and often noticed things others didn't. He always made sure I knew he wanted something more than friendship with me, even despite my rejections. Even as H and I began a situationship, he persisted - and didn't really let up until I officially began dating J in late Junior year of high school.

During his pursuit of me, he had given me something his father had left him: a clay turtle. When he began dating someone, I had driven by his place to return it, to which he had then told me that he wanted me to have it as his first love. It still sits in a box of memories in my childhood room, along with little knick knacks I've collected from my own journeys in friendships and relationships, love and heartbreak. Despite never feeling romantically for him, he was a dear friend; we procrastinated over AP Euro homework together, laughed over interesting Theater happenings, and I very much appreciated him never letting his feelings become a point of contention between our friendship. We had awkward moments, yes, but never did I feel unsafe by his intentions.

There is a time for everything - if he had loved me before I met H, would I have been a real first love, feelings reciprocated? If I had returned his love, who would have broken the relationship first? Would I have still, in my cold-heartedness, broken his heart? Or would my heart have been broken when he left me for Heaven's Gates? My heart is broken, thinking back on our friendship, and how we slowly faded away from one another's lives as we said good bye on graduation day. I wish that I could've let him know I appreciated him, and continued our friendship. He was a good man, far more mature than I in high school, and possibly still much better a person than I.

I wish you nothing but the best in your journey beyond this one, JDN. May you rest in peace.