We didn’t know which words to say, so we just picked some and hoped they were okay. We hoped they didn’t make the wound deeper; we hoped they bridged the chasm. Days pass — and we feel the distance tightening in. That’s a good thing, we decide.

I choose to believe we’re all gonna come home someday, and maybe it’ll be because of you. Maybe you’ll teach us how to say the right words, and to love, and to forgive — not out of duty, but because you know like none of us knows: there’s no other way.

    • Luke
    • June 20th, 2006

    “I choose to believe we’re all gonna come home someday…”

    Love…forgive…there’s no other way.

    Carrie…how do you do this with words? How do you make me feel things when I don’t even know the situation you have in your head? Sometimes I think the lack of details make it more poignant. They force the moral out of your circumstance and into mine.

    I like it.

    • c.l.beyer
    • June 20th, 2006

    Thank you so much, Luke. I can’t tell you how I appreciate your encouragement, and how thankful I am that in all my ambiguity you can find some significance.

    Oh, and p.s.
    I don’t suppose the writing will ever stop altogether, as you may have gathered a couple posts ago. I just reckon that if I had to choose between writing and loving on a bawling baby, I’d have to choose the bawling baby. 🙂

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