My ❤ Story…

He was my childhood friend. I can’t remember how exactly we met but he was always around. They always talked about him and pushed me towards him and made sure he followed me everywhere. It caught on. I kinda built my life around him. I knew what he liked and disliked and we talked every morning and night before I went to bed. He was mummy’s ideal man for me. 
But I grew up.

While I kept him as my friend it was quite obvious we couldn’t be more than that, just friends. I mean he wasn’t my type. He wasn’t the coolest guy out there and he didn’t roll with the cool kids. Did I mention he was older? No? Cause it didn’t matter when I was younger but I had grown and he wanted to act like some father cum big brother figure and I wasn’t buying that. Always trying to tell me what to do and what not to do. Urgh… he was so annoying. Oh yes and boring. He had this habit of writing me letters. Lots of them. They filled a whole book. Who does that? I mean it could be cute but errr a bit to much maybe? On top of that he wanted to talk all the time. Talk about major clingy. But forget about him.

He wasn’t my type. Period. 

So I shunned him and followed my types. The cool ones. The approved ones. I fell madly in love… I had fun. Then fun hurt and I couldn’t understand why. Fun didn’t last. They broke my heart. One after the other. After the crazy nights, and the popularity, all the thrills, it hurt. But the problem was never them, it was me. I wasn’t good enough. I never did it right enough for them. I had to do more. I had to keep their attention for them to keep mine. I needed them to love me. I failed. They walked me in circles. I didn’t know how to live without them, they were my pleasures, my human nature called out to them but they hurt me and then said they loved me. I was so confused. My parents didn’t understand but my friends did, we had the same lovers. The same pain. As for him? We barely talked anymore. We rolled with different crowds now.

So one of those days when again I wasn’t good enough, I wanted someone to at least like me and I remembered him. How much he used to dote on me. I wanted to call him. But like I said we rolled in different crowds now. If I wasn’t good for these guys I’d never be enough for him. He had such high standards. I figured I’d best stay with those who could tolerate my less than enough self. I never thought I’d say this, but all of a sudden, he was too good for me.

Then one of those days I met one of his friends, the ones who hung out with him now. I thought I’d irritate her or something. I figured he had told her how I treated him and she’d not like me. But she was so nice. There was just something about her. She reminded me of him. So while we talked she told me he still loved me. That he talked about me all the time. I told her I didn’t believe it. I told her she didn’t know the whole story. She told me it didn’t matter. Said I should go read the letters he wrote to me. With all the doubt in my heart I did. I couldn’t believe my eyes. He gave up so much for me. He still told everyone he loved me. Despite my brokenness and shame. It was like he took them all on himself. He identified with me like that. The things he wrote about me. The way he treasured me. Even before I was born. I cried and cried. With a trembling heart and feeble lips I called him. He answered. I was so scared I cut the call and went to tell her. His friend. I can’t tell you how much she helped. She took me to his presence. I met a lot of his friends. And then I met him again. The way he loved me. Even when I told him parts of me still loved some of that old stuff, he simple said he’d love me through it if I let him. It wasn’t easy. Letting go of my past. Giving my all to him. Learning to love like him. It wasn’t easy. But now when I look at me I see through his eyes. I can say I am enough. I am loved. I am chosen. I am worthy. I am redeemed. I am forgiven. 

So when I say Jesus is BAE. Understand I didn’t wake up one morning and follow a trend. We have solid history. That’s why he is Before All Else. He is my love.

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