I wish I could tell him . . .

My husband and I will celebrate our 12 year anniversary soon.  12 years!  That doesn’t seem very long compared to how long my maternal grandparents were married.  But in relation to my age, just shy of one-third of my life has been spent with my husband.

Sometimes I wonder where 12 years has gone.  It feels like we just got married yesterday.  Sometimes it feels like we’ve been together forever.

When we got married we went to Memphis for our honeymoon.  We both love that city, and I love Elvis.  We agreed that we would go back for our 10-year anniversay.  We will only be two years late, but we will finally get to go back to Memphis.  I am as excited as I was 12 years ago.

We’re going to take Amtrak down there because my husband loves trains.  We’re going to stay at the new Guest House at Graceland hotel (which replaced the Heartbreak Hotel, which we stayed at on our honeymoon).  There is so much we want to do and see again.  Graceland.  Sun Studio.  Hard Rock Cafe.  Beale street.  And of course I want to show my husband St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.

I can’t wait to be back in the city that I fell in love with the first time that I visited.

One thing dampens my excitement though.  Brian.  I miss my friend.  You never realize how much you miss someone until you want to tell them something and you can’t.  I want to tell him about this trip.  I want to hear him make fun of me for being such an Elvis nerd.  I want to tell him about school.  I want to laugh with him.  I want my friend back in my life.  I miss him.

Tonight my heart is joyous about the anniversary trip with my husband, about revisiting places that first saw us as newlyweds.

But lingering quietly in the background of my days is the empty place that used to be occupied by my friend.  I miss him, and hope he’s doing well.  I pray for him, that he finds success in all he does, that he is following God’s plan for his life, that he is the strong man of God that he wanted to be.  I pray that his life is filled with peace, joy, and love.  And, selfishly, I pray that if he thinks of our friendship that the memories make him smile.

I would love to have my friend back.  But that is not part of God’s plan for either of our lives.  Not now.  Maybe someday.

For now I will smile when I think of him.  I will celebrate the years that saw our friendship go through so much.  I will remember the laughter and tears.  I will remember the hugs and the fights.  I will remember the support and advice.  I will remember silly nicknames.  I will remember.  I will hurt.  I will be thankful that he shared part of his life with me, and I am a better person for that.

And eventually a time will come when he will pop into my head and it won’t hurt to think of him.  But for now, I miss him.  For now I still hurt.

Until next time . . . 

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