I lost a friend two days ago. A friend I've known since I was eleven. If this had happened two years ago, I most likely would've been plunged into a dark pit of loneliness and despair, bawling my eyes out--the sorrow only exacerbated by the memories parading through my mind. But not today. Today, I felt no malice, no melancholia, no nostalgia, only a slight twinge of regret that he no longer wants to communicate. If I have any deep sorrow, it is because he doesn't understand the principles I aim to govern my life by; because he doesn't want to make thorough sense of them, and live by them himself.
Even this sorrow is not so great, because I can still pray for him; and I know that God will do all He can to lead him in the way everlasting, and make a noble man out of him. It rests with my friend to determine whether he will achieve such excellence, but whatever the outcome, I praise God anyway, because He is faithful. I know I can count on Him to seek my friend's best good.
Along with that, I realize I no longer have to worry about sudden and unexpected outbursts over things (at least not from that corner), or other stressful incidents. Since he was the one that told me we shouldn't talk, I can rest assured that I caused no hard feelings when it came to that. I simply agreed with him, and told him that he knew where to find me if he changed his mind. It was a relief when he chose to walk away.
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