subject line: clean March 07, 2017 by Hannah Brencher Michigan The other night after a particularly shitty day I spent 45 minutes sitting on the shower floor. I mumbled to myself about how stupid I was, cried a bit, and let myself pray - long and hard.I started off like I do most prayers, some words of gratitutde and worries for the world and others that are too big to carry alone. I then moved on to pray for myself and repeated my daily prayer “God, I want to fall in love and to be truly loved in return.” Over the years the person who I thought that could be with has changed, but the message has always stayed the same. I always ask for love - an adventurous, comfortable, deep, humorous relationship that I know in my soul is right. And even after realizing that I had spent time and effort on the wrong person once again, I felt most compelled to pray for him. For the boy who didn’t want me even though I wanted him. I prayed that he get home from work safely. I prayed that his family and friends stay healthy. I prayed that he’d find the courage to quit his job and pursue writing because I know deep down that’s what he’s passionate about. I prayed he could see himself through my eyes. See how smart he is, how funny he is, how desperately I want him to let me love him. Finally it hit me that my name probably doesn’t even cross him mind, let alone roll off his tongue in his most intimate conversations with God, even though his name can’t fly off mine quick enough. I sat there under the running water and just thought “It’s so easy to love him, and so difficult for him to love me back. What the hell am I doing wrong?”But somewhere in the height of my thoughts’ darkness I had the sweetest, most powerful thought I’ve had in a long time. If I can pray this intently, this deeply for someone who probably doesn’t give me a second thought, someone else out there could be doing the same for me. And even better, one day, if I’m lucky, I could find someone whose prayers for me sync up with mine for him. Kind of takes your breath away, doesn’t it?