If you love them, let them grow…

If you love them, let them grow…

If you love them, let them grow…

LTME-postDear KB,

I’ll write about the story of us. Leave it all here. And never look back. Deal?

November of 2012, still getting over my first boyfriend who left for college. I was only a junior in high school. I only wanted to play games, wanted to break as many hearts to equal to my heartbreak.

You were just another “jock” at our church. I’ve come to know you just as that as we grew up. Just another unbelievably cocky and mean guy at church. You’ve attempted to flirt me with online, but I thought you were out to play me too, you had such a bad rep.

I remember that night all too well. I was suppose to sing at Trisha’s wedding the next day. And you were too. I walked in on you and Ry practicing your piece, your voice was flawless. I told Khay and them to practice with me in the kitchen. I lacked your confidence, and for the life of me you made my palms sweat like never before. I needed to be in another room.

I could hear you listening in, and a small part of me wanted you to, wanted you to see me as someone else than just the super shy and quiet weirdo at church.

When I got home, I got a message on facebook. It was you. Telling me how you thought I sang good that night. A compliment? I was in disbelief, I made it up in my mind to play you first before you played me. So I flirted. I wanted you to like me, then I wanted you to be like the rest of my victims.

But it all backfired. The more I knew about you, the more I realized I was so wrong about you. The more I realized we were almost the same, yet different, it was beautiful. Somehow in the flood of messaging every single night, your curious glances at church, or maybe in your innocent nervousness at asking to talk to me on the phone, a whole month after you got my number, somehow I fell for you. I denied it. There was no way.

A month later, it felt more and more official that you and I were becoming something. Something more than the game we were both so good at.

The bus ride to Miami is something I’ll never forget. How you lingered on your every move when you were near me, as if trying to stretch out the moment. How nervous you were sitting next to me, listening to my iPod. Asking me to massage your “sore” hand, a corny excuse to hold my hand. And I remember how the dread crept in as we both realized we had only 30 minutes left on the bus ride. You looked at me with the same desperation for more time, you tried to say something, and with my eyes I begged you to make a move. Still nothing. Instead you leaned your head on mine. So I settled for that moment instead. Hands intertwined, marinating in the memories of the trip. Then suddenly you moved your face, looked at me, not knowing how to proceed. I leaned closer, I just needed you. At that, you rushed in, and kissed me deeply. Fireworks did you no justice. And at that, I knew I was screwed. I fell for you. The bully at church. The bully with all that’s sensitive and soft deep inside, something no one else saw. But you let me in. And this frightened me. So after the trip, I ignored you… You called me the day after. Begged me to let you in. So I did, cautiously.

For my birthday that December, you got Ivan and Jared to help you make a singing video for me. Lemonade by Passion. You also got me a sea otter stuffed animal, and a sweet note about having to give up on stuffed animals before, but what we had made us both want to try again, and that you wanted to try with me. And at that I let you in, all of me, no reservations. And you were my best friend.

Fast forward three years, now in 2016. A couple lies, a couple mistakes here and there, lack of communication, and too much love and too much passion. We’ve broken up countless time, got back together just the same. Gotten into different relationships. Stopped talking to each other for certain amounts of time. But in the end, always found our way back…

You’re leaving for the ministry. I have to let you go, for real this time. For the final time. I can’t be the reason to interrupt your future with God. And we know how much our faith means to the both of us. So I have to do this. For both me and you. This back and forth game we have going on isn’t gonna cut it… Not for me, not for you. No matter how much we want it to, or even when we don’t want it to, falling back into each other isn’t a habit we should keep.

I’ll always love you. You’re my best friend. I’ll always want the best for you. But right now that plan does not include me. I want you to succeed.. I love you, and I always will. You were my first true love, and I don’t regret any of it. Not even the heartbreak that led us to who we are right now. I’ll never stop praying for you. I’ll never stop loving you, Koala Butt.

Sincerely hoping for the best and whatever that may be,


Leave a reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.