Praying He’ll do it Again.

I wish I hadn’t had such a good time. I almost wish something had gone wrong. 

Awkward conversations. Too much time passing. Too little, too late. 

But no, it was perfect. 

Conversations picked up right where we left off. It was like we had never skipped a beat. We fell back into our own routine, just like before. 

It felt comfortable. 

I had missed this. Missed it more than I actually wanted to admit. 

These people know me. All of me. Even the ugly parts. Even the parts I try to forget. They know me and they love me anyways. 

I’m not sure I have that in Houston. I’m not sure I’ll ever have that in Houston. 

To be fair, I’m not sure I even want that to happen in Houston. It’s too painful to leave behind. And it’s a wound that doesn’t heal. It never gets better. It gets doable. But really that’s because you have no choice. 

You pretend to be strong. For your sake. For their sake. 

I drove back to my parents’ house the other day talking to God as I drove through the curves and rolling hills. I thanked Him for the opportunity to finally come home and I prayed that leaving wouldn’t hurt as much as it had before. 

But it does, just like it should.

So as each day passes and I realize it’s almost time to go home it does hurt. Because I know what I’m leaving and I know what I’m returning to. There is no optimism is my voice this time. I know Houston. I know everything that’s happened since I’ve lived there and I don’t know anyone who would want that over this. 

But I know it’s where God wants me. I still don’t know why, but He’s been very clear that that is where I should be. 

And so I try to be thankful for the tears and the emotions (all of them). I realize just how blessed I actually am. Just how much these people and this place means to me. Not everyone has that, but I do. 

And so I’m soaking it all in these final days. Asking God to not let me miss a single detail. Praying that when I get back these memories will be enough to get me through until the next time I visit. 

And praying that He brought me home once, He’ll do it again and maybe I won’t have to wait almost 3 years. 

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