There’s an aching on my heart. I’ve been feeling it for the last two days and I’m scared. This horrible idea has seaped into my thoughts and I’m terrified. Genuinely terrified. I can remember the last time I was this afraid. Probably my sophomore year when I learned that my close friend’s dad discovered he had a brain tumor and would die, but no one knew how soon. I loved my friend’s dad, Dave. As much as one of my other friends. Dave was an extremely cool guy and I enjoyed talking to him all the time. Loving, caring, funny, and an overall good person. The only thing he lacked and I had wished for him more than anything was a personal relationship with God. He passed on more than a year ago. I never knew where he was or how his heart felt. God knows and He is the only One I can trust. First learning of that situation, however, brought me to a place in my life I never wanted to return. Fear. Doubt. Loss. My room has felt the wrath of my tears, of my fists slamming against the walls and the doors, and the silent cries–sitting there on my floor. That’s where I would unleash my emotion. Where my nose became red and wet, where the breathing became painful, where desperation was my plea to God. Praying for a miracle.
I haven’t heard or seen any sign of life from Alex and Nathan for a long time. So long, I can’t remember the last time I talked to either of them. Online or through an email. Phone calls are too expensive and we forget. So the Internet is our form of communicating. But they’re not around. No “bloop” of a sign-in on Messenger. I know for a fact that they are both Net-savvy and frequently online. So where are they? Why aren’t they there?
If you recall my post about Alex and Nathan after returning home from Creation Fest 2002 back in August, you will remember how much I adore these kids. I love them. I’m crazy about them. If I could love them any more, there’s no doubt in my mind that I would explode. Literally. They mean that much. Their friendship is that genuine and great. Our friendship, rather.
I emailed them both two nights ago. I wrote them a greeting, wondering how they are and how I’ve missed them. I hesitated before sending it, for fear of what message I may receive in return or worse, receive no message at all. What if they’re hurt? What if they’re in pain? What if they’re… I won’t dare say it. I could never say it. But I’m thinking it. The possibility of IT. And I want to cry. Because right now, at present, I am in the dark and praying to God for an answer–a good one. A good answer to continue on with “The Alex Golden Movement,” which I’ve been planning these last couple months.
My heart is in torment. I feel tortured and uneasy. I have this pain in my chest and I know it’s my heart. If I press my hand over the place of my heart, I can feel it pounding, but it’s not the normal kind of beat you associate with a perfectly functioning heart. It’s the beat of a heart that can’t stop worrying, caring for, and loving these people. I’m not lying. I’m not overexaggerating in any way. If I were to go into a doctor’s office and have him listen in, I guarantee you he would tell me there was something wrong.
I can see the pulse of my heart. And it won’t stop, because the graphic images of my friends–they keep reappearing in my head and I can only pray that they’re a lie. I never wanted my thoughts to be so false in all my life. Pray for my friends, Alex and Nathan. This isn’t a favor. Rather, it’s a plea. Because I’m afraid for them right now. More afraid than I think I’ve ever been. Even worse than when I found out Dave would die. Much, much worse…