[Private]He's all settled in now, in
our apartment, with me. As right as it feels to have him this close to me again, there's something lingering I can't quite explain.
When I sleep, if I sleep, I dream of Rome and I wake up in a panic. Sometimes I feel like I don't know if what I did was right and I wonder if somehow maybe I've damaged him. My purpose in life was to die for the Lord, but was it his? Did I teach him to believe that way because, selfishly, I wanted him to myself for an eternity? Did I set an example for him to follow that he wouldn't have followed without me? I was impulsive with my actions and hasty and to this day I wonder if I abused the trust inherent and forced his actions somewhat.
But he's here with me. How can I worry about my own actions when after months of prayer the Lord delivered him to me again. This time he was not sent to me to guide and to teach, but as something to hold onto when I feel the world shifting under me. It has shifted, it has shook.
Now I feel lost, always. I think about others and how I've left them without answers or closure because I'm scared. There is no need to pray because I know honesty is the only course to follow, but that doesn't mean I feel any more strength in the path. I have never before not wanted to do something I feel I should do at the risk of hurting another person. But I know I have to. I know the guilt won't die, the Lord will not absolve me of it, if I don't. My choice has been made for me, I just need to find the strength within myself to do it.
But there are times when I can forget the guilt and the pain and the constant lingering worry that I am awash with more sin that God can forgive - and it is when I am with him and him alone. When we're so close that a whisper feels too loud. His hands always know how to move and where I need them to go; his lips always know the right words to say and when no words need to be said at all. I wonder, with a jealously that I can barely contain, where he learned these things because they were certainly not among the lessons I taught him.
[/]When George arrives home on Wednesday night, there is a note on the counter that Sebastian has run down to the store to get a couple things for dinner he forgot. When George wanders towards the bedroom to get to the bathroom or to change or whatever he does when he gets home from work, he will finding hanging on the wall this painting next to this one by the same artist. There's a second note laying on George's pillow that reads:Now it's
our home.
