subject line: in another life.


The Desert

In another life, I think I’d be her.

35,000 feet up in the air, and you listed off all of the things you love about her, I wonder if you realize that those are all the things she and I have in common. You carried the ring around all week and I told you not to show me because I wanted her to see it first, but that was a lie, I just didn’t want to give myself hope that it could ever be for me. You didn’t get on your knee that week, or the week after, or the one after that, but when the day came months later, I was able to smile because I know she’s perfect for you, I guess I just wished I could have been too.

If you ever read this, I hope you know that I’m not jealous, angry, or heartbroken, I’m just a little dissapointed that life doesn’t work like it does in the movies.

You’d give me a sense of security, a Christian household with a white picket fence and a dog. We’d read our Bibles and smile thinking about the day we met as teenagers many years ago. We’d reminisce about the time you played my boyfriend in a church play, and how you held my hand and while you’d recite your lines and I stared into your eyes pretending that I was only acting. Laughter would permeate the house as we remembered all of the times I rolled my eyes at you, as you shoved a microphone in my hand and told me to sing, and how I secretly thanked you for constantly pushing me out of my comfort zones.

We’d also probably fight over the fact that you’ve always told me you want to be a dad, but I never want to be a mom. We’d bicker about me not being a very good pastors wife because I enjoy sitting in the back of the church, and that I should probably talk to more people. You’d most likely get tired of my eye rolling, and I’d get tired of your need to constantly have friends around and I’d hide in the room and you’d play your music loud and we’d both roll our eyes.

It all sounds great, but I really do wish you and her well. I hope she gives you lots of babies, I’m happy to one day call you both my pastors even when you both bug me to sit closer to the front of the church. I pray that for every time I roll my eyes, she gives you a hundred smiles more, and that she continues to dance to all of your favorite music with all of your friends.

In another life, I think I’d be her, but I’m finally coming to terms with this life that I have now.