....said the young soul, looking up at me through black rimmed glasses, thoroughly convinced of the lie. His eyes were wide and his mouth was set firm with the harsh words he'd just heard. He believed them. And he was astonished.
"No. He doesn't."
"YES. He DOES. He TOLD me. I wasn't supposed to tell you. But....I ...." He faltered at what to say next. He was wrestling with the guilt of exposing a secret he was incapable of helping to fix. But he loves his friend.
I knew it was a heartbeat moment. A time to speak words back that wouldn't make sense until the some day.......a time to guide a young man who is sitting in the bleachers wanting to make right what he doesn't understand. Knowing that to help hide was only making it worse.
"No. He hates what he's reminded of. He hates what's happened. He hates what he fears. He hates what he feels. He hates what he thinks he'll lose; what he's lost already that cost him so much. But that's a lot to hate with no name on it, no face on it, nowhere to carry it. And God seems a little too scary to hate. It's fear. He's afraid. I got too close. And it scared him."
"Oh."
"Pray."
"I will. I love you."
He left for the weekend and I locked up the store.
Love does what it can.
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