Reflections on Troy

I sit in bed thinking: nothing new there. Troy comes home in 8 months and 3 weeks, according to his December Facebook status.
My fingernails are too long to make typing fluid; they clatter across the keys.
My cat's hair is turning white in spots.
I think about the conversation I had with Shannon last week about missionaries. 'Hers' comes home in July and she just recently got out of the first relationship she has had since he left. We talked about the blankness of the thousands of 'what if's' that circle and pounce if allowed, oddly bringing the flying monkeys in the Wizard of Oz to mind. She and I, we have dated a lt of guys. I admire us for the trust we have developed in God that will allow us to follow our hearts. But it always makes you wonder why we keep falling short with them. Troy, a specter of the past I know one way, won't be entirely like that person when he gets home. Me too. You wonder on the ends of those many what-if roads.
I sound like an immature school girl, I know. Sometimes though, like tonight, I hope God lets him feel my prayers for him. Shan and I talked about how unless someone so wow came along that we could gladly let go of all attachment for our missionaries, that we will always have a string attached. This line holds us bound until he comes home and the relationship is a yes or a no. We agreed that it would be ok if it was a no, we have seen there are equally fantastic guys out there. The chance at a yes is something worth the just-to-make-sure experience we hope to have. But either way, and unless we find the right one with the right timing while he is still out preaching the gospel, we are held to the first. The moment in a suspenseful movie where you sit captivated and barely breathing is a similar feeling. You don't notice the captured breath until it bursts, liberated in a gust, from your lungs. After, you may laugh and wonder, "how silly, it was but a moment and it had such an effect." But, only after.
Well, hopefully now I can sleep. Night ya'll!