The world speeds by in a blur as I press my cheek up against the window. Nothing but the rhythmic sound of the wheels against the track. *click-clack* *click-clack* *click-clack*. Not a single person remains in the cabin with me. My present circumstance somehow mimics what’s going on inside my head… alone in my thoughts, speeding along in a train, unable to predict what is ahead, though confident that there is indeed a plan, a track, a definite and defined direction.

I cannot help but feel like I made a mistake. Maybe I should have gotten off several stations ago. Maybe there was something I could have done to get her to stay with me in my various travels. Now she’s on a different train with a different person. Moreover, she’s forever committed to remain in her state, while I wander the tracks, desperately looking for anything that resembles her. I cannot retrieve her. I cannot revive what she felt for me. I cannot hope for the destruction of a marriage that I so jealously look upon, bitter against the man that finally secured her heart. But I want to. And that’s the cold, harsh, embarrassing truth. It’s one more reason that makes me undeserving of her. It’s one more thing that makes it hurt so much more.

I remember she had mentioned once, while we were dating, that her ex had commented to her that he had been utterly unable to “find anything like her”. In a desperate attempt to praise this woman with this seemingly last breath of his very life and soul, I understood in that moment what a lucky man I was. Did this corrupt my mind, or merely serve to clarify the magnitude of my good fortune? In retrospect, I fear the words, which have haunted me for some time now, may now serve, metaphorically speaking, as the tip of the knife blade that broke off in my body when she left me. Words that were once spoken in grief by a man that realized the significance of his loss now echo from the canyon walls, years later, as I silently mouth them too.

Edward Leedskalnin comes to mind. The man was jilted by his 16-year-old fiancée Agnes Scuffs in Latvia, just one day before the wedding. He then left for America. Hoping to somehow impress Scuffs, he spent over 28 years building the Coral Castle, all the while refusing to allow anyone to view him while he worked. The grounds of Coral Castle consist of 1,100 tons of stones found in the forms of walls, carvings, furniture and a castle tower. It’s an incredible accomplishment, and one that Agnes never saw. Chances are good that she later got married in Latvia (probably in the midst of the construction of “her” castle).

I imagine that Edward would have been very grieved to hear news of her marriage, especially in the midst of his building. Here he was, trying his hardest to be a man worthy of her affection and love, acceptable and honorable for her to be considered “his”, and some rotter… some skunk comes in and sweeps her off her feet. Poor Edward. I cannot help but feel sympathy for his situation. Now, I don’t think Edward ever heard news of her marriage (alas, neither event, whether it be her marriage nor his finding out, were ever recorded), but I believe it would have been a catastrophic feeling of loss for him - possibly even so much so that it would induce severe illness and/or death.

I don’t know what it was about Agnes that stole Edward’s heart. I don’t know exactly what it is about *her* that stole my own heart. What I do know is that I cannot settle for less again. Now I’m not saying that anyone else I’ve dated is “bad” or “sub-standard”, but I am saying that they were no “Agnes” to me. You see, *she* is the one person in my life who I continue to grieve over. The one *desire* that I must lovingly hold beneath the water until it stops kicking and fighting, because I can no longer desire her.

Call it a mistake. Call it a failure. Call it what you will. The relationships that have transpired since this “tragic loss” have failed as well. In these subsequent relationships I’ve been everywhere from mildly interested to extremely sure, passionate, and committed. All were a learning experience (sometimes embarrassingly so), but none were so informative as my relationship (and break-up) with *her*. It is an event in my life that continues to teach me, inspire me, train me, and motivate me. It is a standard to which I feel I must now compare anything that lies ahead. It is a standard that will graciously permit me to build a beautiful coral castle and callously allow me to die alone upon the cold, hard coral surface of my failed efforts and hopes.

I’m glad she is happy. And I somehow feel joy for Agnes, as well. I also feel somewhat empowered and uplifted in that life is not about marriage, nor about “successes”. Life is about Christ, and life is about relationships, and I am learning so much about the nature of relationships, grace, and perseverance. ‘Tis no sad story of mine, but one of purpose, progress, and a future. We ought to adopt such an eternal perspective, yet also permit ourselves to feel things that we were designed to feel (such as romantic love, grief, etc.). We must be honest and true to those things that hinder us or empower us, yet also maintain a level head and continue to fix our eyes on the horizon and beyond.

I don’t think I’ll ever find anyone like *you*, but I’m so glad that I can release you as I exhale my next breath. I confidently and joyfully declare that life was never about “securing” *you*, and it never will be. Though I may feel deep regret and grief over a seemingly “missed opportunity” and/or failure on my/our part, I rest in the fact that life isn’t about MY coral castle, but in the coral castle that the Lover of my soul has so passionately and diligently built for me.

Edward Leedskalnin
August 10, 1887 – December 7, 1951