stories about memories

and sometimes it’s time to let go.

it’s not your fault, but i just can’t be here, now that my heart is gone.
i say a lot of the time that i miss youth group. but when i try to fix that by going back to visit, it only shows me more that i really miss something that isn’t there anymore.
there won’t be any more farm retreats, or sleepovers at beth’s, or hours in the youth office with the girls having real, honest, deep talks(with no fear of anyone snitching), or games of 123 american eagle where getting hurt is just part of the fun and the girls get to play by the same rules as the guys.
just like camp, things eventually change. but unlike camp, i’ve learned that i can’t just roll with this one. not for lack of trying. i gave it a year. but it hurts more than it’s worth, and it won’t do any good for anyone if i stay.

i want this back:

they were my family. those were the best years of my life. that was what paul meant when he talks about believers loving and serving each other and learning together.
but that’s over. and it’s okay. i just can’t be part of the pieces that are left of it.
i want to thank you for being so good to me; i just wanted you to know.

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