by Braiden Ellis<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cI am distressed for you, my brother Jonathan;
\nvery pleasant have you been to me;
\nyour love to me was extraordinary,
\nsurpassing the love of women.\u201d \u2013 2 Samuel 1:26 (ESV)<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I will sometimes scroll past a post<\/p>\n
on Instagram\u2014arms around a girlfriend, then fianc\u00e9e<\/p>\n
then wife. I remember how he told me<\/p>\n
he was afraid of facing heaven;<\/p>\n
afraid to love me more than God.<\/p>\n
But seeing shining teeth across his goddamn face<\/p>\n
and his arm wrapped around her waist;<\/p>\n
I know the truth.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
At nine, running through ordained playgrounds.<\/p>\n
After-service innocence and pervasive<\/p>\n
na\u00efvet\u00e9 to what he and I would become.<\/p>\n
Christ holds His arms aloft, stretching the window.<\/p>\n
Parents hoist their strings.<\/p>\n
He held my hand as we said good-bye,<\/p>\n
until we saw each other the next week.<\/p>\n
I could not understand my Sunday teachings,<\/p>\n
the hate that we clenched in our small fists<\/p>\n
from so early on: for sinners, for God, for us.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Turned thirteen, eyes forward as his father\u2019s sermons<\/p>\n
sailed across the sanctuary, and I was left<\/p>\n
exposed when his hand brushed across my own,<\/p>\n
shaking against icicle fingers. I heard<\/p>\n
God\u2019s language, but only saw false love<\/p>\n
shaped with volleys of brimstone.<\/p>\n
I heard my mother tell her friend:<\/p>\n
God is really speaking through him.<\/em><\/p>\n Cries of Amen!<\/em> when the pastor screamed<\/p>\n After I yanked my hand from his,<\/p>\n and ran to the bathroom,<\/p>\n I could taste the pillars of salt as my tears<\/p>\n ran down my face, between my teeth.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n When I was fifteen, I texted Jonathan, I\u2019m scared.<\/em><\/p>\n He told me that we would get through this<\/p>\n somehow, when we were no longer kids.<\/p>\n Waking up to gibberish texts from his dozing off,<\/p>\n and holding the phone close as I prayed for him.<\/p>\n I never knew that being an adult would be<\/p>\n so much harder, lonelier, angrier.<\/p>\n And when he told me he loved me,<\/p>\n I believed it, that God couldn\u2019t force us apart,<\/p>\n couldn\u2019t burn our city to the ground,<\/p>\n but I couldn\u2019t see Second Peter.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Sixteen meant heavy breathing when<\/p>\n the pastor\u2019s son held my face close,<\/p>\n took my lip between his teeth and whispered<\/p>\n that he couldn\u2019t hide any longer.<\/p>\n Could he truly love me as his own soul?<\/p>\n God seemed to hunt us lost sheep of Israel<\/p>\n through frantic shaking of a bathroom door.<\/p>\n His eyes, wide with desperate fear<\/p>\n as the door is silent once more.<\/p>\n His lips find mine, and maybe<\/p>\n I could have known that he lied.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Were we David and Jonathan?<\/p>\n We crashed into one another swifter than Samuel\u2019s eagles,<\/p>\n and so much stronger than his lions,<\/p>\n but I never saw the cracks that you gave my confidence<\/p>\n and my sense of trust until you pushed me away.<\/p>\n Convenience and family were more important to you<\/p>\n than identity and freedom. You<\/p>\n hide behind chapel walls and women\u2019s curves.<\/p>\n As much as I want and, ironically, pray,<\/p>\n I cannot hold you forever, not<\/p>\n while you fear to look back at Sodom and Gomorrah.<\/p>\n and taste the salt of tears and sweat.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Braiden Ellis is a senior at Georgia College & State University in Milledgeville, Georgia. He is double majoring in French and English, with a concentration in Creative Writing. He is very active in the World Languages department at GCSU and enjoys listening to visiting writers’ readings on campus.<\/p>\n
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