Before we go on, I'd just like to apologize for the lateness of the third post. Making sense of a myriad of things that took place over a long period and squeezing them into one post is hard. Also, as much as I tried to make this particular part colorful, the second half is not up to par. But I want to finish the story also lah - so here it is!

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"I'm currently reading Jane Eyre; I'm pretty sure you've read it, what with it being the quintessential female heroine novel in many people's eyes, or would that be Pride and Prejudice?" the cute young man wrote.

The reader would be pleased to know that this writer, a person of words obviously, understood what he meant by quintessential. Walking to the bookshelf, blowing dust off the dictionary, and thumbing through the Q section was an act of inconsequence, undertaken merely to affirm her intelligence. Such explanation she would perpetuate in the instance of the other words he had penned in the years of correspondence - words like avarice, curmudgeon, and rambunctious.

The cute young man proved himself to be the sublime intellectual young man he appeared to be. And the blank screen proved to be our frame of comfort. No words were lacking as we wrote eagerly and expectantly. Books, movies, God, work, studies, family. Not a stone was left unturned in our cyberspace ramblings.

No stone save for that one topic I was perplexedly pressed to ask, but never did.

Writing revealed much of this man that I grew to admire - His devotion to God, his integrity, his scope of general knowledge, his level of thoughtfulness, his manners that reflect time gone by. Ah, thought I, here is a man I could follow.

But this young man was guilty of one thing all good men have that both attracts and frustrates all women - the disability to lead a woman on. He was too careful in protecting a woman's heart. His cause was further assisted by the continued character of awkwardness whenever we met. Yes, for all the length and creativity we threw into our emails, face-to-face always became a climb up the Mountain of Silence.

Hence, after one occasion when my heart suffered too great a pain from dashed hopes, I made myself move on. I got into one relationship, then swore off any more. It was years of growing, healing, overcoming failures, and rediscovering purpose. And it was in those years that my friendship with him was purified, in the sense that I really learned how to love him more as a friend rather than a "prospect". Furthermore, I had acquired the most necessary skill of destroying the annoying weeds called Hope.

When the doors of my heart were finally ready to be open again, God thought it a perfect time for a test of humor. Interested men - plural - showed up outside the doors.

It was a confusing time, one that moved my mind to the point of struggling to stay on point. Then God saved me, reminding me to focus on Him. So I did. Then He spoke.

"Okay, now I want you to hear very carefully. I know you learned to care for these men as a sister would, and I know you don't like hurting anyone. But I need you to tell them No."

So I did, and thought that the end. But it appeared not to be so. This cute young man began to make more frequent appearances center stage. One would think that the young man was the one who couldn't take the hint, but it was I who only realized we had been writing for six years. I also realized that everytime I read his email or replied, as much as I hacked away at the weeds of hope, I was, in truth, already entangled. To continue on as it were, walking on the line of always never knowing for sure, was the case of unhealthy.

So I was about to say no, too.

But God said, "No. You. Wait."

WHAT?!

"Wait."

By then, I wasn't sure where God was going with all this. Still I waited... with an ultimatum.

"Okay, God. I wait. But if he doesn't do anything this time he's back, it's a sign that I need to let go. Completely."