Never the same love twice

I have a trip planned to Frisco in less than two weeks. It's been much too long since I've seen a dear friend and her family and I need to fix that.

Also, the last time I was there, said friend, Ashley, was pregnant but we just didn't know it. Meaning, I completely ignored the sweet little girl she was already growing. Quite rude on my part.

So along with fixing my social faux pas aimed at dear little Elayne, I'm needing some face time with my friend. Because I miss her.

But tonight I decided that while I'm up there, I needed to put in a little time with another friend who I'm missing. I need to go see Taylor.

I don't always like talking about Taylor. It's been 2 years and a little over 4 months now since we lost him. The pain of losing him has lessened, but sometimes, like tonight, like just in this precise moment, it just punches me in the stomach. I've come to realize that I don't do well with loss. Maybe because I keep losing these amazing people. I don't know.

But while looking at the map and trying to figure some things out for my trip, I realized that with Ashley's recent move, she has ended up just a little bit closer to where he's buried. Not much closer, it actually wouldn't have made much of a difference to drive there from Argyle, but I guess it was enough to make me take notice of the map.

He was from Leonard, Texas. It's a small town. Just under 2,000 people. It's the kind of place that you poke fun at for being so small, but that helps produce some amazing people like my friend.

When he died, and we made that trip to Leonard, exactly 2 years and 4 months ago today, I couldn't handle it. I was a mess. The pain manifested in so many strange ways. The sight of each local establishment shot right through me. Places he grew up knowing. Places he had casually mentioned. Places he had poked fun of himself. I couldn't handle it. My anxiety was at an all time high. I had a hard time breathing and I thought my heart would beat right out of my chest.

It was miserable.

Somehow, through the comfort and strength of others who loved him, through the support of those who love me, and through the memory of him, I made it through that weekend. But some of those sites and memories still haunted me.

Once, on a trip to San Antonio, a friend and I drove through a strip of land that just resembled an area of my trip to Leonard and all those memories came rushing back. My friend offered to drive through it for me. I stayed behind the wheel, but had to force myself to breathe.

I guess some things will just get to you that way. But I still feel a need to go there. I never went to the grave site. And writing this now I realize that I never told anyone that. I don't think I did. Honestly, as good a memory as I have, a lot of that pain has blurred together. The timeline is a little fuzzy. But I know we never went. After the funeral, Murch said he didn't feel comfortable going, so the six of us that were together didn't.

I would have gone, but those people, those boys especially, Murch and Shelby, got me though those days. And so many days before and after. They taught me that it was okay to laugh again. I needed to be with them. I would have done anything for them. I still feel that way.

And it was okay then, not to go. But I think now a part of me needs to see him. I don't know why. I don't expect answers or closure. I'm not even looking for answers or closure. I've never questioned his death. It's just always been a part of God's plan. I don't need to understand any more than that. And I know he's not in that place. I know he's in Heaven, probably wishing I wouldn't cry about his death and those days the way I am now. But I want to go. I think a part of me needs to go. It's weighing on me. Ever since I caught sight of that map. I can't explain it.

I'm kind of scared about it, but the idea is in my head. And what's a two-hour round trip detour? Not much. Certainly not for a friend such as him. Not for someone whom I loved and who loved me so much.

So I'm trying to figure it out. And of course, he would be buried in an even smaller town outside of Leonard where the only existing markers seem to be a church and a cemetery. It makes it a little hard to figure out directions, but for him I'll do it.

I loved him. I still love him. He was this beautiful picture of love and happiness and friendship, and I miss him. And I feel the need to see him. So I'll spend this trip visiting people that I still get to love tangibly, and finish it with a visit to one who I can't anymore.

At least not in that way. Not that I've ever loved anyone completely the same way to begin with.

"There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice."

F. Scott Fitzgerald said that.

He was right.