When Joshua left

When Joshua left, I wept. I went for a long run, paused on top of a flyover overlooking a busy expressway, and cried for a while.

I knew that his leaving meant that one possibility for my future would be forever closed: the socially-accepted, God-blessed option. He was someone really special to me — I had loved and admired him in way that I knew would never be repeated again with another boy and I was disappointed that I couldn't make both of us happy.

I met up with him this weekend. He looks the same. At some fundamental level, I still love him to bits. I hear from Ming that he bought a ring this trip to propose to his gf, and my heart twinges slightly with envy, but it is quickly taken over with gratitude and peace because he is finally happy. And I am happy too, because I finally have the guts to accept who and what I am.

So I must love from a quiet distance. Maybe in two or three years' time when there's a baby in tow and I have finally met his gf/ wife, I can be his sister again. Or maybe not. But it doesn't matter.

To love is a gift.