"I'm disappointed in you," was the tepid response that he received.
Disappointed.
As disappointed as we was with himself? He hated lies. He refused to lie. But who's going to hell if that lie is okay to make yourself believe? And he decided, rather abruptly, to start over. He imagined that she'd be confused. She would have questions he could not answer because he wasn't sure how to answer them to himself. Time would pass. She would get through the election. Time would pass. She would pray not to be strangers. Time would pass.
And he would search for answers. And he would take the time to finally figure out who he is after over 10, 11, 12 years. Finally figuring out what it means to be close to the real God, not the Westboro Baptist God (and the variations that most protestant churches have taken from them).
And suddenly, an unfortunate incident happened. And he couldn't help himself. It was time. Enough of this. Maybe time heals things? Alters things? Maybe she wasn't as disappointed this time? Maybe a step back was good for everyone, and now maybe she knows.
They talked. And talked, and talked some more. About things on the surface. Nothing drastic or life changing. No "where the fuck have you been for the past three months?" No "learning how to be a 'college student' for the first time in my life."
It was simple. Easy. Painless.
He hoped it could have even been longer. But he told her that there was more to talk about. She agreed. He know she'd found love in another. And now they could be friends.
"Have a good night," was the warmer response he received. It was progress. Finally for both of them. A conversation. Did he feel sorry for what he did to her? Yes. Did he feel like time had changed things? Yes
After all, it was still 2009. The year of change. And it's never to late to change your life...
