Thursday morning the news was out. Your friends had saved a seat for me next to you at breakfast. At lunch, my friends watched in jealous self-loathing as I walked past them, carrying my square pizza and tiny salad, and sat with the ladies. During chapel, I saw you doodling our names with little hearts in your journal. As evening drew near and the sun was setting, I slyly came up with some lame reason why we needed to walk around together. One by one, the stars began to shine out into the darkness of night, and the soft glow of the moon reflected the smoothness of your face. Calculating my moment, I knew it was now of never. Looking around to make sure there were no chaperones in sight, I reached out, and grabbed your hand in mine. Fireworks exploded in the distance as a choir of angels sang out in unison… at least that is what I remember happening.
Now it is Friday, and our youth minister is packing up the church bus. You and I sit on that same picnic table where we shared so many experiences on Wednesday, reminiscing over all the good times we had in the last 36 hours. I promise I will write you. We will stay in touch, you will see. And perhaps, when I get a driver’s license I can borrow my dad’s car and come see you on spring break. I will never forget you, church camp girlfriend. Thanks for the memories…
Here’s to you, church camp romance!
P.S. If you have no clue what this post is about, check out the first one!