Exhausted from Loving

What is it about laying on your bed all week
That makes you dream.
A lot.
Call me lazy,
Or call me maybe,
But I plead food poisoning. Or dengue fever. Or love sickness.
Regardless, I can barely get out of bed.
And with this exhaustion of body,
Comes an exhaustion of spirit.

All week I've been gearing up to say goodbye to him.
And I'm all sapped out of loving things to say.
I'm all spent on the reasons I love him.
Because at the end of the day,
He's still leaving me.
And I'm still lying here alone.

And so I resist thinking about him.
I resist talks of a wedding.
I resist exchanging saliva-covered nothings.
Because I feel like I'm saying goodbye forever.
I can't do this.
And so I close my eyes.
And I see him.
I'm randomly escaping from a camp in the woods,
And he is in my getaway car.
Dang him.
I'm playing a game and I kiss someone.
I pull back,
And it's his lips I kissed.
It gets so I wake up and I don't know how he was in my dream,
But I remember him distinctly being there.

Ever get into a relationship that lasted all of 5 seconds?
Before the relationship you were probably like, forget women/men!
Suddenly when the relationship becomes a possibility,
Life is beautiful.
You skip around convincing people that all those other people were nothing.
THIS one is the one.
And then it happens.
Any one of a number things could happen - and it does happen.
And you wake up the next morning with a crushing realization that you're all alone again.
Time to start over.
Or give up.
Again.
Time to reconvince yourself that that person was NOT the one.
Time to embrace a new day full of new possibilites and new people.

This is me.
Knowing he wants me.
Knowing I want him.
But feeling like - of course it had to end.
Of course it was too amazing, too beautiful, too precious to be true.
Of course I'm alone.
Because in my mind, I fear that of all the things that can go wrong,
It won't be him or me this time.
It will be an airplane plucking him from the sky,
Burying him in the grounds of Australia.
And it will be death this time that cheated us both from love.

Silly?
Okay.
Absurd?
Fine.
But as he realized he had 13 minutes left to say goodbye to me, I could hear it in his voice.
The finality.
The ragged intake of breath.
The sweet nothings.
Never mind that we had been talking non-stop for hour upon hour.
13 minutes left.
And I felt cold all over.
The dial tone buzzed in my ear and my heart sank.
No guarantees.
I HATE goodbyes.
It's too much to hope I'll see him again.

It's crazy.
In the past he has disappeared around the corner,
He's left my arms to go get a drink of water,
He's driven 500 miles away to his home,
He's spent 22 years of his life away from me.
And in any one of those instances,
God could have taken him.
A wreckless moment, a freak accident, an internal failure.
Anything could have happened.
And I didn't fear that.
But now, he flies 14 hours literally to the other side of the world.
In two days, he is 10,500 miles away from me.
And I am paralyzed with fear.
I'm afraid from loving him.
I'm exhausted from the fear of losing him.

Who knew that love was so exhausting?
And I know.
God loves him more.
God is watching over him.
But, God.
I still fall on my knees.
Or I would if I could get out of bed.
And I beg you to spare him from everything that could go wrong.
I beg you.

And I know he is safer in your will in the middle of venomous spiders in Australia,
Than he would be out of your will and here at my house holding me.
God, I know you hold the world in your hand.
You know the hairs on his head.
You see the sparrow fall.
You own the cattle on the hills.
So I know you can guard him.
Please guard him.
Because selfishly,
I can't live without him.