Because… I really don’t want to crash.
If I ever do "slip up", though, I hope it’s a cool one. Flying through the air, and that.
Well, it was cool enough when I slid two winters ago in our Jeep Cherokee, and it caused no damage too.
After all, it might just be that I’m very lucky on the road. I haven’t even gotten a speeding ticket for a long time.
Today at work, I was late and the planes were late. The ramp, where the planes taxi and park, was all covered with snow, and the snow didn’t stop. It wasn’t too heavy though.
After we topped off the single Saturday feeder plane, this kid and I did some safety training that took about two and a half hours. We watched two videos (one I’d already seen half of a few days ago, but I’m not one to complain of learning too much), then watched a Power Point presentation by this supervisor and another guy who worked there, and we took three tests. The "other guy" was actually the dad of the kid; the kid was half-Japanese half-white.
Well, I’m sure it’s for her new want-to-boyfriend. After she deleted me but before she privatized everything, I saw she had added him there, the "replacement", some dopey elder. Well, good luck to her. I know her hopes with him will fall through, though, since all the Seoul missionaries she’s been in to have turned out to be idiots… really brainless guys with an atrocious command of English. And it’s only smart guys who go for Asian girls, since those guys’ interests are more inward, and Asian culture communicates with the heart. (Well, I’m talking about missionaries and… Utah guys. I know the world has started liking Asians for other reasons.)
Man… her life is going to suck. I can see it. She’s going to grow up in a day; all her lingering childish extravagance will just disappear. It will freeze to death in this Salt Lake winter. She’ll turn into one of these antisocial Asian girls we have enough of at LDSBC. She’ll become… so normal… when before she was unique, like me. That’s what first drew us together.
I know she’ll change because she’s already changing. It started when she joined the Church, and left me. I don’t know…….. All her priorities just……. got scrambled somehow. Maybe it’s really genetic, something screwy about Asian girls…
I won’t grow up, though, even though I get old and die. There’s a fire inside of myself that I have very carefully tended and guarded. It’s a passion… it’s a… sensitivity… and a devotion and commitment to perfection, or idealism… or happiness. It’s a humility. And it’s a beautiful dream of… sacrifice.
That’s the sensitivity that pushes me to forgive, again and again… and that makes me hold on to love, and put my entire self into relationships.
…And that’s the sensitivity that nearly destroys me, when the relationship ends.
…Well…….. there is no true love without this sense. Any love that exists without it is convenient love — selfish love. And that type inspires no love songs, when my whole life is already a song of love.
…And that easy love legitimizes divorce, also. But divorce, I will not — maybe she will, who cares. Even selfish marriages can last when there’s no better alternative.
Anyway, sensitive I will remain, while she… is falling… from the pedestal, into the slime pit of mundane humanity. My fire burns on, while hers is flickering out, dying.
I wish I could……………. save her……. We should have been saved together…… but she can’t see it, so she doesn’t want to be saved. She would slap away my helping hand and let herself tumble backwards, enjoying the momentary thrill of the plummet. When she hit bottom, when her heart finally died to the beautiful world, she would pick herself up, dust herself off, and proudly call herself an "adult"… and go on with her dead life.
She can’t see… she’ll never see, eh….?
Oh, I have been loyal enough… I won’t regret her fall.
Jesus retained his uniqueness, his sensitivity; of this I’m certain. You can hear it in his words; you can feel it in his actions.
…Please save her, by another hand if not by mine. Open her eyes; give her happiness… teach her to love… Let her keep a child’s heart forever. Why should she fall into normality, the one I’ve chosen to pray for?
If my heartache, this chain of hell, has only prepared me to utter this one petition on her behalf at the end, then I accept it, and I utter it:
…….Save her, save her. Save her from herself.
More than that…
…If but one of us can retain our sense of the beautiful… then let her be the one. I have done enough. Give her true love; I have loved enough.
As the whiteness hides the dirt, so a bright hope will mask my immovable sadness… though it will entomb me someday.
…And yet another "someday", and I’ll come up out of it… and fly through the air.