The Grace God Gave Her to Fall back on when All was lost
OR
The Grace God Gave her to catch her when she fell

Ar,

I do not say it often, though I know that you can feel it; But today, somehow, I feel as though my heart is overflowing and I cannot Keep from you its sentiments without feeling as though I deserve them Already less than I have Always known I have.

I love you deeply, dearly, passionately, and particularly Ari, and the snowflake-like while yet igniting, fiery, distillment your Spirit and your Heart has had upon my own has been Unparalleled by Any other.

I feel as though in reaching out so tenderly to place your hand upon my chest, you have somehow penetrated through the skin and blood and bone and shaped my heart within the tender touch and hold of your hand.

You are So faithful and So strong, Ari, and God has blessed me so distinctly and so personally just by bringing you into my life.

I think often of the Power that there is within your kiss, and of the Honour and the Respect and the Compassion that has been Present within my lips every time they have even so much as come in contact with your skin.

And Ar, I just want to thank you; It has never been the same with Anyone since.

-Don.

Dear Diary,

I feel perhaps I write too often of Donovan and not nearly often enough of others around me. Such that you may get the view that what i feel for Donovan is something other than the Genuine Love it Really is. Such that you may think I am carried away in fantasy, or in wanting Love so badly that I create fantasy of it in order to satisfy my desire for it. I wish to be absolutely clear that what I feel for Donovan is the Truest and Realest and Most Sincere Thing I trust one could Ever get.


I could yield my time away writing of the connection that is missing for me with others, I could tell you of every man that I have known who has been short of what is there with Donny, in hopes that you may better understand, but what would the use of it be? Either you believe me now, or else you most probably Never will. I do not feel it is my role to defend myself to you; I have said before that I am bare before you, and I do not feel inclined at all to Explain myself to you beyond that.

I think sometimes, Diary, that maybe Even You will someday betray me, and I feel sometimes, Diary, like my Own heart is the Only Safety which I can ever hope to harbor for Eternity. I wish more than Ever for you to Stay with me Through it All, and I pray to God you can, but with at last having Donovan gone and taken from me, I feel I am beginning to doubt Even the things of which I have been Surest and Would Never Before deny.

-What am I becoming, Diary? I do not Even know Myself anymore; I do not have the Faith God thinks I have. I do not have the Strength. I need Something to be Sure of. Something that will Never Fade Away. I need Truth, Diary!, I need Love!, I need Hope and Healing and Tenderness to come in and take over All this hurt and heartache and harm; I need God to Hold my Heart Within His Hands.

I am not sure of you, Diary, I am not sure of Don. I am not even sure if I am sure of God anymore.

And I am not sure of how to end this eloquently either.

Dear Diary,

I see things so much more clearly with him by my side. My vision and Understanding becomes so much sharper and the gaps in my sight are so Perfectly made up for by the keener perceptions that exist within those very same areas of his.

The Bible refers to doing Everything we can for God with "an eye single to God's glory" and that is the closest thing that I can think of to even come close to describing how I feel when I am with Donovan; -Not only in things Spiritual, but in Everything. I feel as though I've never known before that two eyes wasn't enough to see One Picture clearly.

You take his two sweet, milk-chocolate brown eyes and combine them together with the deep and clarifying blue that exists within my own and the four of them together morph into One, giving us each this Complete view of things Unlike Anything that you have Ever seen before. I feel like I have gained the wisdom of the owl and his 360 degree vision as well as a depth of vision which cuts through the Atmosphere of this Fallen World and peeks through into the Celestial.

I do not Ever want to be without his eyes again, Diary. I would be Blind again without them. …Donovan is my Vision, Diary. I cannot see without him. And I would take Any Comfort God Could Give Me That would Match the Comfort that there is within his eyes when he is here with me to get me through the Hindrance that exists within my heart when he's away.

Diary,

 

I refuse to overuse the word love. I feel so much like if I were to use it as casually and precariously as does nearly Everyone around me it would dash All significance out of it when I Really mean it. There are other words, you know, that describe the difference in feelings that there is when something less than Love is there, but Love, I feel, is the Only word which Reaches into the Caverns of my Heart and Really communicates in Some sincerity the Gentleness that is there when Love within its Fullness really exists.

 

Don and I have, in younger years, had playful communications with each other about which of us loved the other more. I now dare not even so much as think, let alone assert in any way at all, that there is Any difference in the amount of love between us that is measurable at all. If I love, Diary, and if I am loved back, that is, in its Simplicity, the Grandest Extravagance of which I can conjecture. It is dwarfed into something less than that Great Love when it is not accepted as it is and wont to be measured out and divided into parts instead.

 

-I do not Ever, *even once*, love him more or less than he does me, Diary, nor does he Ever return more nor Ever return less of the Love I have for him, even in the times when One of us is in All Reality unable to give back to the other Quite as much. Love for us, Diary, is a never-ending, continuous, and Ever-flowing Fount of Give and Take: we keep no record of wrongs; no measurements of mistakes. We simply Love, and in that lies Every Goodness and Exalting Glory of which we have Ever felt flowing out from one another.

 

Dear Diary,
      
 I do not think I really meant what I said within that post the other day. I think what I meant was that my heart was hurt and that Only he could heal me. I think what I meant is not that I wish he'd never touched my heart at all, but Rather that he touched it So Deeply that Now no matter Where I am or What I do, He will Always be a Part of me. I think what I meant is that it hurts to have him missing. But I did not really mean that I wish he never was.
      
I would be so broken without him, Diary. And I think that what I really mean, is that Even if he is the Only one who can Shelter me from all this Pain, I'd still not trade the Ounces of healing that he's Given me to Keep me from the Pounds of Pain that are there when he is missing.
     
I think, Diary, that maybe what I Really meant was that I Loved him, -and that Really, I still do.

The day she Finally let Go.

Diary,

I do not Ever want Another man to look at me as though I belong to him again. I belong to Only Donovan, and Ever Will. I suppose that such a saying makes me sound stubborn; well, if stubborn be the word of choice to others from their outside view of it, then so be it. I would be so stubborn Everyday of my life if it could Somehow bring him back to me.

I have found for myself, however, that it cannot. If stubborn is the word of choice for how I am behaving then others do not Understand. Stubborn implies a willful choice of conscious mind which dictates such behavior. I would say, if anything, I am more like Stuck.

I do not wish to be; in fact, I wish More than Ever to be Freed of him Forever, to be released from this hold he has upon my heart and to be able to Live in Ignorance of the Joys he's brought to me as well.

I cannot handle all this pain, Diary. I simply Cannot do it without him here with me to Comfort me and Understand me. He is the Only One who Understands my Joys the same way I do, and he is the Only one who can Shelter me so Perfectly from the Pains that correspond with them as well.

And, Diary, if he cannot be here to Protect me from the Pain of Losing him, then I wish I never Even had had him here to hold me through Anything Else at All.

My lips feel so tender just in thinking about his kiss, Diary. My eyes close and my hands become Heavy with some kind of Spiritual Density which Somehow doesn't know the difference between my thoughts and the Reality of the event actually taking place; they begin thinking for themselves and they Want to be wrapped around his body, my chest Pressing Ever so Gently yet Firmly up Against his, forming into and tracing themselves Along his sides and back, and then up around and into his shoulders, and then Even More Lovingly if that is Possible, along the sides of his neck, and sealing It All up around the square frame of his cheeks and chin, All the while Surrendering Completely to the Passion that exists within the Power of his Lips and Taste and Touch.

I mentioned Prior the Weight that is Present when Love is there, and All I can really tell you, Diary, is that Each time the Memory of him Strikes me the way it just has, my hands are heavy and my lips are tender, and When they Realize he is no longer here, they feel So missing and So much more like they could Never Kiss, nor Touch, nor Love another quite So much.

It feels as though they have detached from me Completely and Remain detached from me and Floating out in the air in front of me, Always just barely close enough that it Appears that They are Still within my Reach to Reclaim when I want them, and Yet Time and Time Again I find that the Reality of it is that they Are and Ever Will Remain Always Just Far Enough Off and Just Aeirified Enough that They Could Never Be Reclaimed As My Own Again without that Weight and that Consistency that Only Don can Give Them.