Stay

My work-day finished around 4:45p.m. on a Friday afternoon.

When I got home, I opened the door and the pups charged at me like I was an opened jar of peanut butter; and then there was you.

You told me you had news to share.

A million ideas ran through my mind like shoppers in a chaotic-frenzy on Black-Friday. This was a different kind of Black-Friday.

I welcomed your news as I sat down at the kitchen table, like a patient waits anxiously for a glamorous report from the doctor.

But this time, the diagnosis was fearful.

You told me you were leaving Nashville.

You told me you joined a new band.

You told me second-to-last because Olive wasn’t home yet.

You told me you’d return someday. You promised me.

Tears streamed down my face.

My head and heart were abandoned.

I felt angry, scared, and my bones shuttered.

I didn’t want to think about the future somedays in case they might never come.  You may never come home.

I texted Stephanie earlier in the day and told her that you were one of my buds I could count on.

The solid kind. The kind who are intentional.

The kind who are consistent. The kind who aren’t flaky.

The kind who stay.

You told me life would still go on.

You told me I would be okay.

But the truth is, I’m not okay.

You told me Olive would be here.

And then I remember…dreams look differently sometimes and so does God’s plan.

As I lay my head down next to my sexy wife tonight, I’m reminded of the past four years we’ve enjoyed together and already look forward to your return.

I just wish you’d stay.

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