June 26, Thursday

My Canadian friend #2 calls me some nights, and we talk till long after bedtime.  I know I can’t do it much more.  I was late this morning, and I drove to the last train stop hoping to still catch the 817 bus to BYU.  It left just as I was running over to the stop.  Well, I was about 45 seconds away.  Back to my car I went and off I drove, soon passing that bus on the road.  I thought of parking at American Fork and catching the bus there, but I missed the exit.  I ended up driving all the way to BYU.  It was a lucky move, because we three students spent about half an hour after class planning our assigned few-minute skit for Friday.  After that, I dropped off that Jake at the new student housing building, Alpine Village.  Back to Salt Lake.
I lost a quarter dollar today, I think, unless it’s in my car seat.  You know, losing money is like losing friends: you look for it everywhere, but after having done that, you stop worrying about it and go make some more.  It’s all spilt milk.  Whether I ever cry again, I’ll never torture myself again, no matter my degree of fault.
I cried on Monday when I said goodbye to my friend.  It was the smallest cry, just the bare drop of a tear welling in both eyes, wanting to run down… but it was a cry still, a sincere mourning… and so I dubbed her my fifth love.  But there is a time to care and labour and strive and hope and forgive… and then there’s a time to stop caring… as Mormon the prophet found out with his damned people.  I felt I was securing a lifeline; but now the rope falls to the grasp of Another, if he will catch it.  She was a boulder I was pushing up the steep hill of happiness, but it accumulated mass instead of wearing down.  Now I step away, and may the rolling break it down manageably… else consign it to rest forever in the ravine.  As far as I can now tell, Free Agency is the truest of all principles.  The body lives as it will… but the soul can only live by choice.
A school day past, and I drove home in the twilight.  Just a week off of my wheels and I’m already sloppy on the road.  Going up I-80 to the 23rd East exit, passing Sugarhouse, I recalled my nights of delivery driving last month.  Now I go to school all the time — of course it’s enjoyable, but driving home, I started to feel very grateful for those beautiful work evenings and that blest month of April when I was loosed from my cares.  That month of work was surely a highlight of my life.  I have a feeling there will be more.
Ah… I have the world, without a doubt.  This is what life is.  Thank thee, Father.
I’m alive.
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