Faith

I’ve always had a faith. Faith that all life, and my life, has a very special purpose. A purpose greater than Darwinian survival, greater than the worship of God, greater than success and power and all the facets of hedonism. And that purpose is true love. A love so great that the light of its beauty can illuminate half the world, and throw the rest into shadow.

For so many years I held onto that faith, held it tighter than a Baptist preacher. In the face of every bit of evidence I found over the years, all of it saying my faith was in error, that there was no such thing. This faith was taught to me by no man, woman, or book; it has just always been there in my heart. I broke hearts, and caused pain to myself and others because I would not let go of this faith, would not compromise. I questioned many times whether it was just fantasy, questioned how I could justify such faith, and yet I never let go of it.

When I met Ann-Marie, I saw it as a vindication of everything I’d believed in. Proof that my beliefs were not a fairy tale, that faith and patience had paid off, and I had finally found what I was looking for.

But now it’s over. She’s left.

She was the affirmation of my faith, of everything I believed in. And what do I believe in now? I know that logically my faith is equally viable now as it was before I believed it proven. But I’m tired of logic. It gets old being logical when none of the rest of the world makes any sense. Why give me a taste of that, only to yank it back, to show me that it was never really true at all?

It is discouraging. I thought I was doing a good job of getting past things. Then Friday night I dreamt of her. Dreamt I was at her house, but afraid to go talk to her. When I did, she greeted me warmly, and everything was great, but something kept tugging at my mind. “Didn’t we break up?” I asked her.

She smiled. “I know, I said all that. But I could never stay away from you.” She assured me. None of that was real.

And I was really happy.

And then I woke up. Happy. And then, slowly, had to remember that the good part was the dream, and the bad part was the reality.

I know that there are still millions of girls out there, and probably thousands are amazing people. But when you’ve lost something amazing, its always hard to imagine that any of those possibilities could be as good.

But shaken as it may be, I still have my faith. As much as I thought so, Ann-Marie was not the one.

I guess it was a bit early to have solved the great challenge of my life.

One more wish to go . . .