Jesus and My Salty Keyboard

I'm lonely and angsty and conflicted tonight.

Someone I love's wildest dreams seem to be on the verge of coming true, and I should be happy. But I'm not. I'm selfishly sad.

I'm sad over loss and over change and over being left behind. I'm sad about fun times that won't be had, and togetherness that will be missed, and love that will be long-distanced. I have mascara-rings around my eyes, and tears on my face and my keyboard, to prove it.

I want to go for a run but it's midnight, so I shouldn't.

I want to go be held while I cry, but the only person to do the holding is the one I'm crying over.

I want to write poetry, but Ben's intimidates me and puts me to shame, and made me give up when I'd barely begun.

I want to be happy for my friend, but instead I'm a bit messy. There are a lot of things I can't do--play piano, write poetry, play basketball, draw, dance, roll my Rs, to name a few--but I sure can love. When I love, it runs deep.

Union usually keeps me so happy that I don't even have a crying spot here.

My only consolation is that even when everyone else has someone else, and people I love have to leave, I'll still have Jesus. I know He's enough. Right now I don't really feel like it, but I know He is.

Tomorrow I'll have puffy eyes and a tired heart, but I'll still have my Jesus.