The song reminds me of someone perfectly. I won’t say. When did I become the enemy? When did my actions, which I thought were selfless, become interpreted as self righteous and controlling? Have you ever been faced with someone’s definition of yourself, and were totally struck silent in wonder and confusion?

No greater love hath any man

Then to lay down... you know, every time I have broken up with a girlfriend it was an attempt to resuscitate a relationship with a best friend, (different best friend each time)

hath any man than to lay down his

I’m listening to the radio, and there’s a commercial about how pests can become real problem, and I am realizing that we have no idea what real problems are. I’ve never encountered one, have you? Think before you answer.

than to lay down his life for a friend

I’ve never had the same relationship with a best friend twice. When I was best friends with Lance, it was nothing like when I was best friends with Emily. And I don’t care who reads this but I’ve never had another relationship like the one I had with Emily. I had never been in a relationship I was sure would last for ever before then, and I don’t think I’ll ever be in one again. To be too certain of something is like begging God to take it away. I love Melinda, but I really believe she’ll leave me some day. Or maybe in death, I’ll leave her. I would rather live forever then ever leave her.

Would hell be so bad if before you went down Christ said: “We did every thing we could, you practically earned an entrance. No one else can make that claim.”

Remember that time in creative writing, when Al, that old gentle man, who came to class as steady as the sun, was talking to Rob, the wise teacher who loved nature, and Rob said “Write about anything you want to,” and Al said “The golden thread” and Rob smiled and said, oh so sure, oh so sweetly, oh so simply “follow it.”

I loved him only slightly less then Kristin, and even if you don’t remember being there, you remember that feeling, the small golden explosion in your head, heart, stomach, legs, the one that whispered in a whirl wind “this is home.”

And I’ve held onto those whispers, all of them, because they ARE the only thing I am certain of (besides God) because they are real. More real than you or I or anything in this world. Because they are glimpses, one inch window frames to home.