The last time we spoke was about a year ago. And in the passing months, I’ve felt as though I had gained a painful, but true understanding that some paths are never meant to cross again. What hurt bitterly was that I was never able to tell my story. But putting that aside, I chose to move on. And then today, our paths collided.

I was rounding the corner out of my office, busy reading some reports. And in less than five minutes, I was reminded of why it’s best why some paths should never meet again.

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it careful round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable…The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers…of love is Hell. (C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves)

In two days (and 22 hours), I’m going to be dragging my bags through Washington-Dulles to meet the man who has chosen to love me no matter the pieces that may break. This weekend is The Move. If only the days would spin quickly to that meeting.

When the choices of our days begin to fill in the details.