Letter from Washington

Letter from Washington, 10/24/13

Dear Levi,

It’s Thursday. Hardest day of the week. I remember that horribly frosty morning on the way to Speech class when you met me at the corner of the chapel building.. and incredibly, unbelievably… you had driven into town before dawn to buy me coffee to start me day. “I know today is your hardest,” you’d said.. I wanted to cry. Even now, my soul is speechless. What kind of love is that? What kind of special, selfless kindness? How could I have treated you so, over Christmas, when I didn’t even call? If I could go back, if I could go back…. To that place on the couches in the CSC when we laughed and took silly pictures, to the table in the GO Ye where we shared hot chocolate and homework between classes…

Who helps you now with homework? Who shares those moments? Does someone take care of you and surprise your mornings? Does Anna? Or do you hang out with your guys? I hope with all my heart that you are receiving the special attention and care you deserve.

No one cares for me like you did. No one surprises my mornings, buys me food, makes me laugh, checks to see if I’m okay. The apartment is always silent and black when I wake up and slip out into the cold… No one notices my existence. No one loves me like you did. And I threw it away?? What a fool. What a crazy, deranged fool. If I could go back, to just one minute… If only I could change the past, but I can’t…

Over and over the words from Taylor Swift’s song plays in my mind, desperate, borken remorse…

These days, haven’t been sleeping

Staying up, playing back myself leaving…

When your birthday came and I couldn’t call..

I think off all the summer, all the beautiful times,

I watched you laguhing from the passenger side;

I realized I loved you in the fall…

Then the cold came, dark days… fear crept into my mind;

You gave me all your love,

And all I gave you was goodbye.

This is me, swallowing my pride,

Standing in front of you,

Saying, “I’m sorry” for that night.

Cuz I go back to December all the time.

Turns out freedom is nothing but missing you

Wishing I’d realized what I had, when you were mine.

I’d go back to December, turn around and make it alright;

I’d go back to December, turn around and change my own mind…

I miss your texting

Your sweet smile

So good to me

So kind…

And how you held me in your arms

That winter night

The first time

You ever saw me cry…

Maybe this is wishful thinking,

Maybe just hopeless dreaming

But if I love you again, I’d do it right.

I’d go back in time and change it, but I can’t.

And if you’ve blocked me on Facebook, I understand…

But this is me, swallowing my pride

Standing in front of you,

Saying “I’m sorry” for the lines.

I go back to December all the time.

Turns out, freedom is nothing

But missing you,

Wishing I’d realized what I had

When you were mine…

I’d go back to December, turn around and make it alright…

I go back to December, all the time.”

I wish I could sing you that song. I wish you would slip into Santana one cold night after work and turn on the radio and hear those soft notes comes into the air. Would you stop and listen? Or would you drive away?

Another day, regretting the past, dying on the inside from the shame and grief. Last night, I drove to church and Anna was sititng up in the balcony in pretty obvious view, right where you always sit. For once, her hair was kind of curled, bouncing around her shoulders, and as usual she looked so happy and sweet. I had to wonder if that is what I once looked like? I didn’t want to look. I wished I were anywhere but in the line of sight. My heart literally spasmed.

You told me, “Focus on God, Noelle.” Dear Levi, how desperately I am trying to follow you voice. The sermon and songs were so good. The Yakima Trio sang – Bobby, Jed, and Caitlin; a wonderful rousing gospel song. I’m sure you heard them sing similar in chapel. I was so proud of them. I miss when Bobby used to talk to me. I never really was welcome with the Browns but I always thought so highly of them; especially Jed, your childhood best friend. I dreamed of being their friend one day. The men’s ensamble from Heartland sang, too… must have been college night.

The sermon was another continuation on Proverbs, on the path of the wise. He hammered in how obvious wisdom is; how to walk foolishly, we have to deliberately step over the instructions and teaching in our life. How was I so fooligh? The way I acted? The path I chose? The regret is cutting so sharp. I looked over at Anna and I let the tears fall. God, I treated him so wrong! Please, let her be good in his life. I’m so, so, sorry….

I know my parents forgave me…. Somehow, through years of stupidity and selfish lifestyles, they love me. It’s amazing. And God loves me, too. Why do I get a second chance w them but not with the one whom my soul loves? I know…. I don’t deserve it… but my heart longs for it.

I left church and drove to Walmart, to see Santana. She was so happy and carefree, hanging out in her usual spot. Do you think she misses me? Remembers I sat in her once? She didn’t acknowledge my car as it drove by, slowing briefly to say hi.

I drove home, and pulled on my second hand sweats, and my old trusty Asics, and my Heartland hoodie. I went out into the dark, behidn the apartments where an uneven path follows the chainlink fence and scruffy shrubbery. It was cold, my heart was empty, but I ran. Ran, ran, ran. Air burning down my recently-healed throat, chugging from my lungs.

I ran for you, for all lost, for me, for the dreams gone, for the empty heavens, for the empty future, for every mistake, for all the enemies. I ran, baby. So long and hard and endlessly pounding steps on endless pathways… the night sky falling down around me in every direction to shroud me in a blanket of stern silence.

When my legs gave out, I rolled over onto the ground and panted for a long time, heart squeeze so badly. But in a way, this pain was more tolerable. It was just a rational pain; purely scientific. And it would pass.

When I headed back inside, I dropped by the mail boxes. Crooked, uneven little boxes all rusty and crammed together. Ours is #10, although I’m not sure why because that number doesn’t correspond to our apartment or building number. I pulled ou the junk mail for the previous tenant, a tribal skirt I’d ordered ages ago off of Etsy… two letters from Steven and Nina… and…

And…

And…

A letter postmarked Wapato, Washington.

The beautiful, dreamed-of Yakima Valley… home… home…

I held the little card with a pink return stamp posted from Natalie Fowler, a stamp from the Washington post office faded in the upper right hand corner, little hearts fluttering along the seal in the back, with the hand-written words “I love you.” I could hardly believe it was real, really there in my hands, really posted from Washington to me.

I stood there cupping it in my hands, speechless. And then I laughed, the most authentic joy I’d felt in so long bubbling out of my lips into the stillness of the stern night air.

A letter! Hope!

Those words were simultaneous in my mind, and as I danced around in the parking lot, in front of God and country, I was unebleivably delerious in my joy. A leaking hose left a puddle there in the parking lot and my tennies splashed through it, leaving my sweat pants ringed with wetness. Neighbords, a barking dog; I didn’t care. The happiness couldn’t be contained as I danced and twirled and laughed in the dark parking lot.

Not forgotten!

I ran to the apartment and locked the door, dropping my keys onto the table and standing with a knife in the kitchen to carefully slit open the envelope. Someone was thinking of my existense here! And then… I couldn’t. I left the letters on the counter and went into the other room to drop down on my knees and pray. My heart was bursting with emotions, and the best place to poor them out was to God, my gentle patient Father, who is able to stand int eh fire of the emotions He created in my soul. I could barely think how to pray – thankfulness, trepedition, greif- and I broke down sobbing. What do you say? To the God of the whole universe who looks down on a pitiful little soul and hears her prayers? And then answers? All I could do was cry and cry. And I know that He was there, he spread his wings around me, and he knew what my heart was trying to pray.

Later, I read her card, and Steven’s, and Nina’s. GiGi left me the best promise ever – she was praying for me, and she would write me in a few days. Steven addressed his card to his most favorite person in the world. My heart was overwhelmed – how could I long to be in so many places at once? With GiGi, with Steven, with you?

I can’t wait to meet GiGi someday. She is so precious to my heart. I want to hug her so tight- the only one in your family who never gave me up on me. Is that why you loved her most???? Levi, you were so lucky to have known her and shared some of your life with her. She took you in when you lost everything; she is doing the same with me. And I am not even blood. Wow. What love. I hope, to be like her someday.

Your star,

Rigel