Beyond explaining how I got to the six months of singleness and what’s going on with Hoyt (a code name for the one I’ll be telling you about soon) (and an AWFUL name picked solely to bother him. the funny kind of bother), I have a major reason for writing all of this out.
I call her my Little Grasshopper.
I LOVE her. She is the oldest of 8 children and an odd little bugger who I discipled for about 6 months this year, until her parents decided that they wanted to invest even more in her relationship with God by being her primary disciplers.
Her young heart recently dealt with it’s first love, and it’s first crush. And with a sincere desire to be nakedly honest, to give all the wisdom I can, I chronicle with what may, to others, seem like excrutiating, unncessary detail. So if that’s you, check back in a couple of days. I’ll get funny again soon.
But for the little grasshopper and for all hearts who may be further healed, i’ll share about the promises of no contact.
From DAY ONE, people suggested that we not have contact after the break up. (except for Stephen. He just kept suggesting that we get back together. not helpful, FTR ;) ) But we are stubborn, romantic creatures and it took a world of hurt to finally accept that.
We left the coffee shop that day with a few promises. He asked of me that I spend time with his family while he was gone, that I not sever my relationship with them as I would with him. This I’ve kept, wonderfully, easily, with their help(thanks, Super Mama). I’ve never felt more like a part of that family than I do now.
I also promised that I would proceed as though we weren’t together (check) we’d never be together (mostly check, random, unchecked musings of the past aside) and that we’d never be friends (not as good on this one. When I first thought I was over him, I checked his twitter and blog. Just once. And I do HOPE to be his friend….but I’m still not taking any steps in that direction. so…check-ish).
I asked of him simply that he keep true to the no-contact clause. That he not keep up with me via any social medium, and that he let himself off the hook, give himself permission to heal, and permission to not love me. I’m not sure how he’s doing. But I pray he’s healed, or healing, well.
We also agreed that, in oder to avoid the “When CAN I talk to this person again? Should it be ever?” We’d see each other when he came back to Austin in December for Christmas. We’d catch up and given that things go according to plan, we’ll say further, less heart-wrenching goodbyes. Healthy ones that say “I don’t have to avoid you, but neither will we hang out.”
Because at that point, and possibly even now, I seem him and my heart sings. He sees me and goes mute. It’s cute, but it’s no basis for friendship and nothing that a future spouse for either of us wants to deal with.
Whew. Let’s all take a collective, deep breath.
The next time you check in, it’s very likely that I’ll finally tell you about Hoyt, and the most impressive speech I’ve ever heard a scientist give. :)