There were no Bible verses that came to mind when I had to make the decision I was about to make.
And I hated that.
I wanted some sort of obvious instruction from God that the action I was about to proceed with was the right one.
But no such assurances were available.
It was just me... here... in this moment. The only thing needed to secure some peace seemed to be this one undone action that with one flick of the wrist could be performed... and the only thing stopping me from doing it was the knowledge that once done it could not be undone.
My thoughts raced. If I was going to do it I may as well do it now... while his back was turned. I certainly couldn't ask for a better opportunity.
Better this way with his gaze fixed on something other than me... I didn't want his last memory of me to be one of feeling betrayed.
Come on, Nick. Just do it! a little voice inside my head urged.
So much conflict... was obedience or rebellion the right response? Could I really say goodbye to him? After all this time was now our final moment together?
I suppose this would all be a heck of a lot easier if I hadn't already lost him once.
Back in February when I moved to San Antonio from Austin I found myself confused as to why he hadn't made an appearance in my final days as a resident there.
Yes, it had been a while since the last time I'd seen him but I guess on some level I just expected that he'd show up at least once more before the last box was loaded onto the UHaul trailer and I said goodbye to the city forever.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I made my peace with it (without really acknowledging that that was what I was doing) as I spent that last night falling asleep on the sofa where so often he had come to find me.
I awakened the next morning and did my best to digest the reality that he had opted to remain absent... did not want to see me... and there was no explanation.
It hurt. I cannot lie.
Well, imagine my surprise when just a few weeks later he showed up again! Here I had thought that our swan song had played in it's entirety and no sooner do I begin to accept it then the little guy makes a surprise appearance!
He always did know how to make an entrance... and this time was no exception.
I was unpacking the last of my moving boxes the day that he showed up and I heard him before I saw him.
As I lifted the corner tab on a cardboard box labeled with a Sharpie marker as "Christmas Ornaments" out he flew on a jetstream of glitter and tinsel debris.
He buzzed angrily at me for a few seconds and my mouth dropped open at the sight of him. I couldn't believe it! The little housefly from the apartment I had lived in in Austin had survived being packed away with some random holiday decor and had traveled as a stowaway all the way to my new digs in S.A.!
I had tried to kill the little rascal a million times after the day he flew in the front door of my Austin apartment.
I'd swat at him with rolled up newspaper or various pieces of junkmail... but the little guy was fast and would always fly up into the high corners of the ceiling anytime he felt too threatened.
Eventually I gave up and just accepted him as an additional tenant.
I always stayed out of his way and for the most part he stayed out of mine.
Once moving day began creeping up on me I lost track of him and figured he'd just flown out the same door he'd flown in...
Never did I imagine that this whole time he was devising a plan to transfer to my new city of residence with me!
And even though he had always been something of a nuisance the truth is (as you might imagine) I had developed a fondness for the little guy. In all honesty, when he came buzzing out of that cardboard box a little something in me was happy to see him again and even hoped he might stick around.
Mr. Fly was the only familiar face I'd seen in a long while and, as pathetic as it may sound, the only real friend I felt I had in a much larger radius than what I'd really like to admit.
I continued settling in to my apartment and Mr. Fly did the same. I'd spy him buzzing around the apartment as I'd lay in bed at night and watch TV... wondering if he'd missed sharing living quarters with me as much as I had with him.
When I found a spiderweb in one of the lower kitchen cabinets I pulled him aside to let him know about it so that he'd be sure to stay away... I couldn't tell exactly but by the way he rubbed his two front little legs together I think he was highly appreciative to be informed.
Mr. Fly and I were soon just as much a symbiotic pair as we ever were.
And then... one day... I began to feel very, very sick.
One night when I was feeling particularly feverish I quietly got up out of bed and crept into the other room where my laptop was.
I logged onto WebMD and began to do a little research about what kind of health risks were involved in sharing living quarters with someone of a caliber like my roommate's.
I was saddened to see that house flies are shameless carriers of all types of germs. Mr. Fly, as much value as he was in the currency of familiarity, was likely making me very ill.
And so, possessing this new knowledge, the inner turmoil began.
Was it better to be sick and happy? Or well and lonely?
Nothing felt familiar in San Antonio. And as ridiculous as even I admit that it sounds I was heartbroken to think that the one soul I felt like I had some sort of genuine tie to I now needed to sever my acquaintance with... and for the second time no less!
I suppose I always knew this day would come, though.
Because it doesn't matter how much you love someone... if all they do is hurt and sicken you... the time will inevitably come when you have to say goodbye.
Which brings us back to the place where this narrative started...
With me... in the kitchen... with an old rolled up Prevail Sport underwear catalogue.
Mr. Fly is sitting with his back to me just inside one of the counter drawers that I left slightly ajar the last time I was in it.
He's perched atop a postcard of a stained glass Jesus... right smack dab in the middle of the Messiah's face.
And I have a decision to make.
Do I really want to kill you, Mr. Fly? Do I really want to say "goodbye"? It's true... what I get out of our friendship is a very minimal amount of pleasure but it's good to feel good... even if only a very little. Is it worth subjecting myself to whatever harm you may continue to do to me just so I can have the tiny pleasure of holding onto you for as long as I can?
Mr. Fly stays perfectly still... I creep toward him with the rolled up catalog raised...
"There was an old lady..." I sing, inching ever closer. ( 👂 )
Mr. Fly's front two feet come up off of Stained Glass Jesus' face and begin to intertwine.
"...who swallowed a fly".
Mr. Fly reverts back to his original position.
"...I don't know why... she swallowed a fly..."
Now or never, Nick. Time to let go... time to move on. There are greater relationships to be had than with a dirty little housefly who will only serve to make you sick over and over again...
And as Mr. Fly does an aerial 180, I bring the song to a close and SWAT!...
And no sooner than the words have left my mouth... "Perhaps she'll die!"... than Mr. Fly is a greasy sticky spot in Stained Glass Jesus' goblet of stained glass wine.
I open the drawer to retrieve the postcard and wipe it clean. "Sorry, Lord." I apologize, "Didn't mean to ruin Your beverage."
And as I put Stained Glass Jesus back in his kitchen counter drawer I look at Him & I feel led to ask, "Do You think I did the right thing? Ending an unhealthy relationship? Was it the right thing to do since obviously he was content to pretend we could always be friends even while constantly presenting a threat for harm?"
And while maybe, yes, that was a lot to be asking of a postcard - I felt somewhat betrayed.
Jesus genuinely didn't seem to have an opinion on the matter.
And that, perhaps, made me more sad than anything.
I had lost a relationship that I'd been holding onto pretty tightly... and I'd finally made the decision that to continue to do so was detrimental to me... and all I really wanted was His opinion on the matter...
And as I quietly searched my heart I found I just couldn't hear Him offering any commentary. ( 👂👂 )
And so, not knowing what else to do I went to the front door, turned the knob, and let it swing wide open.
I got into bed intent on letting it stay open all night as I slept...
Because perhaps that way someone new could fly into my life... and maybe this time it'd be someone I could love without abandon...
...Someone who wouldn't make me sick...
...Someone I'd never have to worry about saying goodbye to...
Someone who maybe even Jesus would have a strong enough opinion on to share His thoughts with me
And with that thought came a smile... and dare I say it? It almost felt like it wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside...
And I hopped into bed and fell asleep as the children's song played on a loop in my mind.
"Rest in peace, Mr. Fly." I whispered.
And with that I said my final goodbye.
*parts of the previous blog entry may or may not be entirely metaphorical in nature.
Soundtrack For This Week's Blog
👂 - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KiESiO6tLM8
👂👂 - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0IpbkUAItGk
