Walking the Right Path

Epilogue; Part two

I realized quite dreadfully that this wasn't my story to tell. It was like a cold bucket of ice had been poured on me, washing away the dust particles settled in my eyes. In this story I was merely a side character whose purpose was to help the protagonist come to his full potential.

Where was my own ending then?

My story would've been about a girl who lost everything she thought was the perfect life. It would've been about moving on from past pains, repentance, and most importantly navigating through the simple yet difficult act of forgiveness. Again, my story would've been about me befriending a random guy who just happened to find his way into town, following the instructions of my spirit and helping him in the way even I didn't know how to. It would've been about lessons of the power of God and based on Adam Weston, it would've taught people about respecting differences and embracing new ones.

But I didn't anticipate the feelings that would blossom.

They say time waits for no one and yet I feel like I'm stuck in a particular day because it plays over and over in my mind. It was a vibrant morning that crashed when Mr Richardson came rushing through the door with another man looking frantic and scared. He had the last bit of hope in his eyes when he asked where Daniel was.

I was stuck replaying that moment not because I was scared of Daniel's whereabouts, in fact I was sure he would be fine, he has God on his side. I was sure Mr Richardson and the man would find Daniel happily somewhere else. What made me visit that memory is the fact that reality sunk in and I realized yet again that I had to let someone else go.

Him.

Daniel.

He ran away without leaving a word and while it hurt as though a truck had been rammed through me I accepted it and focused on starting my own story—picking up the pieces of perfection and attempting to put them back together to form something beautiful again.

I remember the day I was set to leave with my Uncle. I looked at his warm brown eyes which I once detested filled with love and thanked God for giving me the strength to forgive him. He was busy carrying my luggage into the trunk of his car as I faced my Nonna one last time before I left. A lot had changed since that morning. I trusted God more, I smiled more, I opened my heart more and forgave William, I wrote my final exam and I graduated.

And while some days I found myself staring at the door waiting for him to burst through it and apologize, just give me a reason or when I sat staring at my phone expecting an anonymous call it never happened and so I learned not to expect anything anymore.

I hugged my Nonna, we cried, laughed, exchanged stories—afterall she had been my biggest rock for years. Parting with her wasn't easy but it was another thing I had to do. I have a future to focus on.

My own story.

It consisted of me staying with my Uncle William again because unfortunately my father was still not ready to accept me in his life. It consisted of me going to college and forging my path in this world.

That was supposed to be the plan but I should've known such things never go right. One doesn't determine their own path and so I found myself in front of a door, staring at the message hanging on a wooden plaque at the entrance.

John 14:27

Peace I leave you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.

My heart was beating faster than normal, my perspiration evident in my soaked shirt and rolling down my back. I gulped in anticipation. Just open the door. A simple action that left me in a nervous position.

I was supposed to be two thousand miles away right now with my Uncle. I was supposed to be forging my own path, instead I left everything behind because of one phone call. Correction. One unsure phone call, made by Mr Richardson urging me to come to his place to receive something I've been expecting.

And while my mind warned me not to expect anything else I hoped that it would be him.

Hope they say, is a feeling of trust.

I trusted, with everything I had and opened the door to find him again.

He was pacing around the living room with his long legs covered by a pair of sweatpants and his upper body covered in only a slim singlet as if he rushed here from sleep. His fingers rubbed his face occasionally while he mumbled incoherent words.

And when Daniel Monroe turned to face me, smiling like he had seen a precious gift my heart swelled.

And when Daniel Monroe hugged me tightly as if he would never let go of me again my smile broadened.

Suddenly I realized. It just had to be.

Maybe in the end there was never my story or his, it was just one story.

Our story and the ending was yet to come.

THE END.

Jeremiah 29:11

11 For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Psalms 119:105

Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.

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Thank you for reading!! ✨❤️❤️