Leap of Faith by Cassidy Shay (nice books to read .TXT) 📖

well. You’ve helped her build a relationship with God, and that’s something that will carry her through this life and into the next. And you’ve experienced what it’s like to truly love someone, even when it hurts to do so. And she seems to make you happy.” She sighs. “I really hope that this works out for you, and of course I would love for you to become a priest. But I would not be devastated if you discerned that that wasn’t your calling, and ended up back with Amia. And I’m not saying that you guys would automatically get married or anything. But she really is a nice girl, and I hope you’ll keep her around, priesthood or not.”

 

The next day, I go meet with Father Steve. He opens his office door and I step inside. I haven't talked to him since the brief conversation we had when I went to mass on Sunday night. 

"Come in, Mikey," he says, and I sit in the familiar chair. "So tell me more about what happened. On Sunday you just told me that you needed to talk to me, that the weekend trip didn't work out the way you expected."

I nod. "Yeah, that's the simplest version I could think of." I launch into the story, and after I'm done he doesn't say anything right away.

"Well, I think you made the right decision. This is something that will dictate the rest of your life, and you need to make sure that you're unbiased when you make it. 

He sighs. "But you also have to be careful with Amia. I know you care about her, and don't want this to be the end of your friendship. So try your best to make her understand. Be patient with her, because remember that she's going through a broken heart just like you are. Only she's going to be angry at you, and it's going to take her a while to accept this and be okay with it. And of course there's a delicate balance. You need to be there for her, help her heal, but be careful not to lead her on. That will just cause more pain for her later on."

 

Over the next few weeks, I think hard about what Father said. I don't talk to Amia too much, but when we do talk, she gradually seems less and less angry at me. I don't know if she actually understands everything yet, but she doesn't seem mad. She's still the person I want to talk to first when something happens, not that much happens to me.

Joe tries to make plans with me several times, but I just have no motivation to go anywhere. If I go anywhere, I want to go somewhere with her. Since spending all my time with her is just about the opposite of what I should be doing, I spend a lot of time in the Adoration chapel at my church, looking for answers. The more time I spend thinking about it, the better I feel about this decision. 

I'm still not over her. God, no. Of course not. But as the days pass, I become more and more confident that I was right to let her go. That holding on to her would have simply made everything worse. 

Several weeks into summer, I call Amia and ask if we can hang out. We agree to meet at the playground that's near her house, and I'm waiting on the swing set when she comes walking up. I stand up to meet her, and wrap her into a hug. It feels so nice, so natural, so familiar to have her in my arms again. But I know I can't get carried away. We're just friends. Meeting to hang out, as friends. 

We spend the next two hours talking, catching up on all that we've missed in each other's lives these last few weeks. We tell each other stories about our families, and we laugh about old memories. It feels like it's been forever since I saw her. 

After a while, the conversation becomes a little more serious. “I don’t know if you’ll care, but I finally read the rest of the letter. I needed something to distract myself from thinking about you.”

“Of course I care,” I say. “I know that that’s something that you were having a hard time with, and it’s something that’s really important to you. I’m glad that you were finally about to read it, even if it was just something to distract you from me.” It’s quiet for a few more minutes. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?” I ask. She seems to be troubled by something. It could just be the break-up, or it could be something else.

"Well, my mom finally set a date for her wedding,” she says.

"Well, that's... exciting?" She laughs, shaking her head. 

"Yeah, I guess. She seems really happy. And he's been loyal and a good guy, I guess. And I mean if he wants to marry her, he's obviously changed from when he left us ten years ago." She looks down at the ground, shakes her head. "I just can't let go of all the hurt he caused me. All the anger that's been sitting, festering, for ten years. And everyone keeps telling me that he's changed, that I need to be the bigger person and just move on, forgive him. But I just can't. I can't let go of it. I've tried."

I reach my hand out and grab hers. We're still on separate swings, so there's considerable distance between us. But her hand in mine always comforted me, and I hope my hand has the same effect on her. I feel my muscles relax as her hand folds into mine.

"And then everything with you has just left me completely confused. Today has been probably the best day since our trip, and that's only because I knew all morning that I'd get to see you. It sounds pathetic, I know. That it's been, what, three weeks? And you're still basically all I can think about?" I don’t say anything, but I know exactly how she feels.

She laughs. "Except that would be so much easier. But then I have this whole hearing situation. I can't describe to you how completely strange all of this is to me. I can hear the sprinklers in the morning, and the fridge buzzing. I can hear the TV! I don't have to imagine what people's voices sound like anymore. I can hear music. I can hear all the little noises that I've never been able to hear before. And I can't get over that. I can't have a regular conversation because I'm too busy thinking about my dad or you or wondering how the heck I can hear."

I squeeze her hand, and she looks up at me. "Amia, I really, really am sorry. I'm sorry that so much of this pain is caused by me. And I'm sorry about the things that aren't surrounded by me. I'm so sorry that you're going through all of this."

She shrugs, and wipes a few tears off her face. "I'll be okay," she says. "It's getting better, it really is. It's not nearly as bad as it was. And school will be starting in a little more than a month, so that'll keep me busy and give me something else to think about. I'll be great." She wipes her face again. 

"But how are you? How are things with you?"

I take a deep breath. "Well, things have been going okay." I don't want to have to look at her and tell her this. "I think I did the right thing. Every day, I just feel more secure in the knowledge that I'm being called to the priesthood. Father Steve has been meeting with me a lot, helping me figure things out. And I've been spending a lot of time in prayer. And I feel like, as much as it hurts, I did the right thing. Holding off would have just caused us both even more pain."

She smiles at me. "I'm happy to hear that. I really am. I'm glad that you're finding your way."

Amia

 

My Amia,

You are such a strong, beautiful baby. I know that as you get older, your beauty and strength will stay with you, and there is nothing that you won’t be able to do.

You won’t get this until you are a teenager, and I hope it’s not too late. I don’t know what will happen in the next several years, and I hope that nothing takes away that sparkle in your eyes, the smile on your lips. I hope that you remain child-like in your faith, even throughout the years when you’re supposed to know everything. I wish nothing but the best for you, and I pray that nothing happens in your life to take away your happiness.

I can’t wait to give this to you, to see you grow up into the beautiful young lady that I know you will be.

I don’t know what kinds of things will have happened in your life by the time you’re sixteen, but I want to share a few things with you that would have been very helpful to me at that age.

You’ll be driving soon, and it’s hard to stay grounded with the new-found freedom. Remember that you still have to drive the speed limit, even if your mom isn’t in the car. And it’s your responsibility to make sure the car always has gas. You’re on your own now, so don’t make your mom come bring you gas when you’re on your way to school. Or work. Or a party. Or whatever it is.

Go to all the school dances. If you don’t have a date, go with your friends. Take the opportunity to look like a rock star and get out of the house. You’re only in high school once, and the real world doesn’t have homecoming dances or prom. Take advantage of it while you can.

Take lots of pictures.

When chocolate is offered, always accept it. No exceptions.

Always try to do the right thing. Sometimes it’ll be hard to tell what that is, and it usually won’t be the easiest path. But always try to do the right thing.

Never be embarrassed to sing along with your favorite song. Whether you’re with your friends, in a group of complete strangers, or anything in between, always sing along. Don’t ever let any social circumstances come in between you and your jam.

When you have a boyfriend, don’t assign your relationship a song. It may be the first song you ever danced to. It may seemingly fit your situation perfectly. I don’t care. If that song becomes “our song,” you guys will break up and you will forever hate that song.

The golden rule. Treat people how you want to be treated. Always. It doesn’t matter how rude they are to you, or how much you can’t stand them. Take the high road. Always.

Forgive. It’s easier to be happy when you aren’t holding grudges all the time.

Always be yourself. It may take some time to figure out who “yourself” is, but that’s okay. Once you figure it out, don’t let anyone tell you that you should be any other way.

You are beautiful, and