Part 10: The End (or is it?)

This is the final part of my Germany Chronicles series.  Click the link above to read the first 9 parts.

My heart couldn't be ripped out many more times and still survive intact.

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After Matthias left for Germany, I knew that things were different between us. We had conversed about more waiting, something I wasn't really that willing to participate in. He didn't seem to worry about the massive amount of time it took communicate, albeit, we had decided to start talking more through emails because of my episode in February. And I felt like I had already told him the most important piece of information.

Early in this series, I mentioned in a fleeting comment about how impatient I can be. This situation is the ideal example of how much I didn't want to wait for the Lord to lead us together, if it was His will. I wanted a commitment; I wanted more than what I was offered.
So I started to pursue the option of dating Thomas. By the end of the summer, it was clear that I liked him and he liked me. After school started, things continued. We talked on AIM quite a bit (old school, right?!) and things seemed to be taking off in the relationship direction. But I still hadn't settled the situation with Matthias. I had no idea how he felt about me still. Becuase of his lack of urgency, I couldn't be sure that he felt even close to the admiration I felt for him.

By the end of August in 2004, I was certain of my decision to end it. "It" being a relative term, because we didn't have anything official. In an email, I told Matthias I wanted to send him a letter, so I needed his new stateside address.

I proceeded to write my version of a "Dear John" letter. I told him about Thomas and how I felt like things were going to work out and consequently, felt held back by our relationship. I explained how I had started to experience my feelings change earlier that year when I had been forced to break my own heart.

In my head, it seemed like it would have been easier to make a clean break than to continue this non-relationship-type friendship. Just let me tell you, it's almost impossible for guys and girls to be good friends without one or the other having feelings for the other. That topic will have to be another entirely different blog post in and of itself.

Before he actually received The Letter, he wrote, "To be honest I'm afraid it could be something bad, but I'll see..."

I felt horrible.  He already had a feeling of impending doom...

Nonetheless, I sent the letter several months later and he documented the actual delivery in an email to me. It also gave him a chance to express his feelings about the entire situation.

He wasn't surprised. He actually had been expecting it because we hadn't talked for a couple of months. He felt the same way as I did. Our relationship had lost its validity when we decided to wait. Overall, even though he seemed to accept everything that I had said well, he still seemed hurt. We had a lot of history, and I was still having serious doubts that it could be over. I had given him my heart. And then I took it back.

It was easier for me to move on from him with Thomas in the picture. 8 months later, I would question my decision to finalize the end with Matthias. I've been questioning it ever since.
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It's been almost 7 years since I first met Matthias that fateful summer in Germany. 6 years since we ended it. 5 years since I've emailed with him (just to catch up, randomly). 3 years since I found him on the German facebook site. 2 years since he found the real facebook, and we became "friends" again.

Looking back through all of these memories and diving back into old letters and emails has shown me one thing: a heart can't really forget it's first love. I still wonder what could have happened had I been willing to be patient and wait out the time apart. He had been considering moving to Houston to attend school there in order to be closer to me. We had talked about future plans...and mutually, we had agreed that during the time we communicated, the other person was equally important to be in the other's life.

In the present, would he still feel the same way? Or, because I have been single since high school, am I just trying to hold on to the past and not move forward? If we were to meet randomly, what would we say to each other?

Why can't I let go? Since I started doing this series, I've been asking myself what the point was...beyond writing about my own "Dear John" experience. The point? I'm not finished. I let go some time ago. But I'm not done with the story.

[This part might only make sense to Twilight readers: When I read the Twilight series about a year and a half ago, I could never imagine Robert Pattinson's face as Edward. It didn't fit right for me. I had seen the movie first, so it should have been easy for his face to magically make its way into the action in my head. But not really. Matthias' face was my Edward. It definitely took me a while to figure out why I couldn't see Robert, but once I saw that Matthias just fit, it was no going back. All vampire qualities aside, Matthias is my "Edward" subconsciously.]

When I finished Dear John, I was so mad at the characters. She had moved on, and was happy, yes, but always wondered about what could have happened with John. It frustrates me to know that this will always be my reality, not just a fictional story. I guess I will always wonder what could have happened and what might have been. If given another chance, and knowing what I know now, things might look a whole lot different.

But there's really no reason to think about what might have been or what could have happened. If things had worked out with Matthias, there's a good chance I wouldn't have come to the greatest college of all time.  I wouldn't have had some of the best roommates on the planet.  I wouldn't have met my absolute best friend of all time. I wouldn't have been able to experience my love affair with Chinese people. I wouldn't be who I am, who God planned for me to be. So, no, I don't regret anything.

But I will always love him, whether he knows it or not.

Part 9: Leaving on a Jet Plane

This post is a continuation of my Germany Chronicles series.  Please click the link above to read the first 8 parts.


He was still the blue-eyed blonde I had left last summer. But something was different. We had a history this time. A long, detailed history...

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Over the time that Matthias and his German buddies were in Houston, I was consistently busy trying to balance the time spent with them and my other responsibilities, mainly swimming. Because it was summer, I was doomed to awaken before the sun even rose to endure the torture of the lukewarm 50-meter pool. Swimming in the early mornings while watching the sun rise. It definitely sounds more romantic than the actual reality of the sun glaring into your eyes every time you turn your head to breathe. How annoying!

But during these mundane practices, I was fighting an emotional turmoil. With several hours to ponder the complexities of my "relationship" with Matthias each morning, swimming was generally the last thing on my mind. Swimming is a sport that doesn't quite completely takeover your thoughts, or at least it never took mine. Maybe that's why I never really advanced as far as I should have. I had the potential. I just never took the initiative to acquire those goals. Shame on me.

[What was I talking about? Matthias...yes, I remember now!]

During these few weeks with Matthias in person, there were a couple of opportunities for us to be together. I have to admit that I maybe kind-of skipped a couple of swim practices in order to participate in different service activities.

While their team of people was here, there was a certain organization to the madness. Because of the number of participants who turned out to help on certain days, we were split into several groups. My two other sisters were in a different group than myself.  It was strange how these things were decided. I learned later that because my family was hosting 2 girls, my sisters were paired with them and other host/hostee pairs. I was placed in a group consisting of my past team members with German teenagers that I already knew from the previous summer. Coincidence? I think not.

Regardless of the way we were split, Matthias and I were able to spend some together with other mutual friends. I remember one day in particular.

We had traveled to a nearby apartment community to reach out to the children and minister to them. Matthias ended up playing basketball on the courts, whereas I was playing different games in an area closeby. On this particular afternoon, Matthias twisted his ankle. Good thing I was there to take care of him!

In a matter of a few minutes, I had convinced myself that if I took care of his ankle, he would maybe see how much potential I had. By potential, I seriously mean "wife material". I wanted to prove my capacity for caring for him in a way that no one else possibly could. By this point in their trip, it was pretty obvious to other people that there was "something" going on between the two of us. I didn't try to hide it. I had been trying to "mark my territory" the entire time.

I'm fully aware I'm not a dog, but there were serious threats coming from fellow American girls, girls who were able to be at the different events quite a bit more than me. My thoughts towards these other girls went along the lines of "Did you go to Germany last summer? NO. Did you meet him and then write letters back and forth for a year? NO. Did you receive the best birthday present ever from him? NO. BACK OFF."
Now, I never actually said these things out loud...but let's be honest. I'm quite embarrassed to see how I treated the whole situation in my head. My heart couldn't handle losing him again - let alone to someone who was not as committed as I was already.

All these girls wanted was a "summer fling". Okay, so the accents make you melt, I admit. I will also own up to the appeal of being with a foreign guy. I met him innocently one afternoon with no intention of ever making it as far as we had come. I never intended to fall in love. I never wanted to have to "slow things down" from across an ocean. But it happened. And I wouldn't have changed it for the world.

During his stateside visit, Matthias and I made a point to spend some time alone. We had things to talk about. Through the last year, I had kept asking him what we were considered. His response? "We are just friends for now. Let's get to know each other better before we commit to being more."

Yes, logically, it made sense. My heart didn't want it to be that easy. So, my heart and my head were saying completely different things.

Over the last year, my dad had talked to me on several different occasions about my feelings for this man. During one intense conversation, he wanted me to seriously consider the possibilty of moving to Germany to be with this man. Gulp. Move halfway around the world? Learn a new language? Live there for the rest of my human life?

I was ready to commit.

But it was more complicated. It always is, right?

For starters, I still had another year of high school. And he was about to move to New York in the fall to work with an inner-city ministry there.

When we ever-so-quietly snuck away to have time alone, we discussed the details of what we were. I desperately wanted him to go ahead and commit. I wanted to be his girlfriend. I wanted to start heading in the "official title" direction. You know...girlfriend, fiance, wife.

My deepest fears became a reality: more waiting.

But wasn't it him who had mentioned something his father had once told him? "The three most important things in life are to find God, find a good job, and find someone to spend your life with. You already have the first thing. You already know what the second one is, and now you just have to find that third thing."

The suggestiveness of him saying this wisdom to me was enough to make me believe he was committing to me. In my head, that was him saying that I was the one. Right? I convinced myself that it meant one day, I would be his wife.

How absolutely bold and foolish of me. 

The time came for our German partners to leave. It was a cloudy, dreary day. And the weather could not have matched my mood more perfectly.

Memories of the last few weeks flooded my mind. I couldn't stop picturing the way his face lit up when he stepped off the elevator that first day and saw me. I couldn't get the feeling of holding his hand (interdigitated, might I add) for the first time that fateful afternoon when he twisted his ankle. The afternoon he spent with my family at our neighborhood pool. The trip to New Braunfels and Austin to see the Capital of Texas. And then the discussions that we had which ultimately meant more waiting.

I was an emotional mess. I was in love and having to leave my man for the second time. At this point, we had spent maybe 2.5 total weeks together physically. My heart was acting as if it couldn't find a rhythm. Surely someone had ripped it out in the last days and attempted to put it back in, good as new.

Before we left to take our two hostee girls to the airport, I wrote Matthias a letter. He was instructed to not open it until he got on the plane. I couldn't bear to have him read it in front of me.

Once my family arrived to the airport, I bolted out of the car into the terminal and found him immediately. I handed him my note. They checked into their flight, and left to go find their gate. I watched as he rode up the escalator to pass through security. When he approached the top, he turned around and paused. I waved. And then he disappeared.

My heart was in his hands. [Literally. Remember that note? I wrote to him that I loved him.]

I was so afraid of losing him.
Soon after he disappeared to finish his journey stateside, my face was buried into my dad's chest. Surely true love never really felt like this.
 
My heart couldn't be ripped out many more times and still survive intact.

Part 8: Herz Brechen

This is a continuation of my Germany Chronicles series.  Click the link above to see the first 7 parts.


And that night, I probably most definitely dreamt of him and his voice.

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November passed...

December passed...

We had ceased to talk through emails. It was better for us to "slow down" our long-distance relationship and only write snail mail.

Whose brilliant idea was that? Mine.

After hearing from him on my birthday, several months passed without hearing from him. Everyday, I would frantically search the mail in hopes of finding an envelope addressed to me. Nothing. For months.

This kind of waiting is different from all the other kinds I've experienced since then. It wasn't just waiting to hear from a good friend. I wasn't frantically searching for a message that just said "Hi." Or the familiar ring of my cell phone.

My heart was on the line here. All of it - even though Matthias didn't quite know it. I never told him how I really felt. We had been more concerned about doing things in God's timing than sharing our real feelings.

So now, as I look back on that time in my life...I have to wonder if things might be different. The impatience that I experienced at that age was rampant. After several months of waiting for a letter from Germany, I had pretty much given up. I was on the edge of believing he had completely forgotten about me...the girl who made his hands shake and made him wonder what was happening to him.

In his previous letters, he apologized quite a bit about not responding as quickly as he should have and making me wait for him. At those times, I had cared less. I didn't really have to wait that long to hear from him...and it gave me more time to read the letters several times a day at school. Obsessed much? Yes, maybe I was.

I remember the night I received his next letter vividly. I had gone to swim practice that day and went home to eat dinner. After dinner, my mom went to pick up the mail. When she returned inside, I was already upstairs, preparing to work on homework.

She walks into the house, closes the door (beep beep beep went the alarm system), and yells, "ERIN!"

I stopped what I was doing, turned around slowly, and went to see what the fuss was about.

Upon seeing she successfully got my attention, she said, "You have a letter from Germany..."

[Remember to breathe, Erin!]

I ran down the stairs at lightning speed, grabbed the letter out of her hands, and ran back to my room.

Before even opening the envelope, I had tears running down my face. It had been way too long! I had basically given up hope. The whole thing might as well have been a dream.

And yet, here I was, holding the proof in my hands that it wasn't fake. It was a reality.

With my bedroom door successfully shut, I eventually opened the envelope...to read the first few words...and then to start crying my eyes out all over again.

He was sorry that he had waited so long to write...again.

It was that winter night when things started to change. I had put my whole heart on the line without telling anyone, and I had to break it along the way because nothing had lived up to my expectations. The tears shed that night? My broken heart in pieces.  His letter acted as the final blow, without him even knowing.

But life went on...

We continued to be friends that spring and correspond...as I went to a military ball and then a band banquet with other guys who might or might not have been "interested." I was boy crazy, I tell ya!

School ends, and summer begins. Beach Retreat (BR) happens. BR is exactly what it sounds like: high school teenagers going to the beach for a week all under the name of a church. Beaching. Retreating. It all happened.

It was that year at BR when I met Thomas. Nothing happened at first. And then later in the summer, something started happening. [My life is beginning to sound like a soap opera, yes?]

Matthias and his fellow German teammates arrived sometime in June.

Before I saw him again in person, my stomach had turned into a butterfly mill. When I thought about him, I still had those flutters deep down. I couldn't rid them...and didn't really want to. I was so excited to actually see him and touch him (by this I mean hug!) and spend actual time with him.

The youth group was really excited about our partnership with our German friends. Everyone wanted to be involved when they were here. This fact maybe, kind-of, annoyed me. Half of these people didn't even go last summer! That was me being selfish and wanting the Germans to be mine. But sadly, I didn't own them, even if I wanted to. Hello, can you tell I was 17?!

The afternoon they arrived into the country, their first stop was the church. That's where I was waiting for him...butterflies and all. When they stepped off the elevator, I immediately found him and made my way into his arms.

He was still the blue-eyed blonde I had left last summer. But something was different. We had a history this time.
 
A long, detailed history...

Part 7: The Letters

*this is a continuation of my Germany Chronicles series, and you should check out the first 6 parts before reading below!

I finally found the folder I needed to finish this journey...

And that year, we would write...

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For the group of Texans that went to Germany that summer, our trip was scheduled from July 1st through the 12th.  From what I remember on the night we got back (it was the 13th because of time changes), all I did was sit on my bed with the Downhere cd on repeat in my room.  I was in a daze...and my emotions had not completely caught up with me.  About 2 days earlier, I had been with Matthias physically.  That was before I had to leave him.  And it was before our tragic flight home.  

This daze...it was for multiple reasons.  I couldn't seriously believe that the trip was already over.  Was it even real?  I'm sure I must have pinched myself several times.  I wasn't dreaming, right?

Over the next few weeks, several things would be a comfort to me as I tried to get back to my "normal" life.  Whatever that was.  

First of all, my pictures.  After taking the disposable cameras to Walgreens to be developed and actually having to go back to pick the prints up, these objects proved that what happened was, in fact, real.  Second, my music.  Three cds remind me of my journey: Josh Groban's Closer, Warren Barfield's self-titled album, and Downhere's self-titled album.  Thirdly, my stomach could not seem to forget Matthias' touch.  This last one might be silly.  But I was 16...and seriously inexperienced with any kind of contact with the opposite gender.  So, my mind wouldn't really let go of this one.  Fourthly (but it's really first), I had recieved an email on the 10th of July - 2 days before I had even gotten back - from Matthias.  *heart, be still*

I no longer have a digital copy of this first email...but I did print off a copy the night I received it.

It is on this copy I have made my own notes to point out the highlights of what he wrote.  Some of these things went like this:

"I tried so hard to divert myself, but I just can't stop thinking of you..."

"My hands are still shaking as I write this and I think I never felt like this before.  What did you do to me?"  (I probably giggled when I first read that one.)

"I really wished we would have had more time together alone." (he added the bold)

"When you asked me what I wanted from the states, do you know what came to my mind first?  You.  I just didn't dare tell you that then."  (At one point during the trip, I strategically asked him what he might want from the states...and his hesitation was enough to answer the question until I saw this email...)

See?  Now maybe it might make more sense as to why I printed it out...reading it once was simply not enough.

Over the next few months, we wrote back and forth using email and snail mail.  The average time for a real piece of mail to get from one address to the other was about 9 days.  

We wrote of "I miss you" and "I miss you too".  We wrote of vacations.  We spent time talking about what we could officially define our relationship as.  He wrote a lot about how he doesn't write a lot, but that didn't mean he doesn't care.  He just can't think of what to say.  

By August, I was sure I was in love.  Head-over-heals-I'll-move-to-Germany-for-you love.

I had to be careful of who I expressed this fact to.  And to be honest, I can't think of a single person I actually told.  I was afraid people would tell me I was crazy.  I didn't want to hear the things I had heard up until that point: "guard your heart", "it's just not logical", "the age difference is too much", "he lives too far away".

Those conversations went against everything I felt.  Okay, maybe the whole situation wasn't logical.  But really, how can I just tell my heart to stop beating?  It wasn't going to change anything.  

Regardless of how my heart felt, I was quite reserved in my emails and letters.  I spoke with him about how we needed to slow things down - I'm only 16!  And I still 2 more years of high school.  This can't be good to go so fast when we are so far away.  Writing to each other in the way that we had been was quite dangerous.

"I miss you so bad and I feel like you were gone for a year already" (I had been gone a total of 20 days)

"...but you know you can take this as another proof of your beauty and kindness..."

"I'm really missing you badly and praying for you and that God may lead our ways together if it's his will..."

"I can't wait to see you again..."

A few months into it, he mentioned me coming to visit over Christmas and New Year's.  Whoa.  If I had been 23, there would maybe be no question if I could go.  But I was 16, and was sure my parents would deny me the opportunity.  I mentioned it in passing...but I don't think I was actually taken seriously by them.

November approached...our shared birthday month.  I can't remember what I sent him as a present.  But I think I was excited about it because he definitely wrote about how he was excited to receive it...because I had talked about it so much.  

My birthday was about 20 days after his, and I honestly didn't expect anything.  I would have been happy with just a letter telling me happy birthday.  

As it turns out, I did get a letter...

And a piece of his past.

This shows his old drum (the one I now possess) and his new one.

It did indeed arrive broken.  But I don't know how to play the drums, and this gift was better than anything else he could have given me.  It still sits in my room and I will never get rid of it.  When I actually grow up and officially move out of my parent's house, then I will take it with me.  

With his gift, he also sent pictures with great explanations on the backs.

...sorry for the blur...

On my actual birthday, after arriving home from swim practice, the phone rings...one of my parents answers the phone (like usual) and then subsequently calls out my name for me to get it.  At this point, I can't think of any person who could be calling me.

I answer. "Hello?"

"Hello, Erin..." 

My heart starts pounding.  It can't be.  No way.  I'm dreaming.  I can't stand up anymore.  Where 's the chair...oh, there it is.  Sit.  BREATHE.  

"Hi...I can't believe it's you..."

He called. On my 17th birthday.  To wish me a happy birthday.  And almost gave me a heart attack in the process.  

It was so fabulous to hear his voice again - the smooth richness of it, his accent - and it seriously felt right.

I don't remember the conversation from that night.  But I remember hanging up feeling as if I was never going to fall asleep again.  

And that night, once I fell asleep, I probably most definitely dreamt of him and his voice.

Part 7 Coming Soon!

Oh dear...the endeavors I have created for myself.

Upon my decision to accept a swim team coaching job in Houston, I have to clean out my room in my parent's house so I can move back into it...

Which means there's a lot of stuff to go through in the next few days.  Maybe I'll document some of the process.

In the meantime, I decided to start under my bed - and found the folder of letters that Matthias had written to me.  I was starting to have some serious doubts about whether or not I would be able to find them.  I haven't seen this folder in YEARS.

But, alas, I have discovered it in the depths of the under-bed.  And now, I am definitely going to be prepared to write part 7.  My heart is pounding because I am so stinking excited about this find.

sigh.

How great these things work out.

So, I apologize to make you wait longer.  But it will be on my list of things to work on in the next days here at my parent's house.

Woohoo!

Until later,
ED

Part 6: Journeying Home

*this is a continuation of my real-life Dear John story.  visit the "Germany Chronicles" tab to read the first 5 parts*

Sometimes, dreams do come true.
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Out of all of the International trips that I've been on in my 23 years, I can definitely say that this adventure had the most emtional roller-coasters. My journeys to China are completely different in the emotional arena. Maybe the difference also comes from age and maturity. But in all honesty, this trip to Germany did nothing less than keep us all on our toes. After a group of 6 get lost on a train in their pjs, another guy had gotten lost our last night in Munich. Our youth minister seriously didn't know where he had gone off to - and this guy finally made it back to our hotel, but it was a scary deal! This was before everyone had cell phones that worked internationally.

However, on our long flight back to America, an incident occured that helped me to see just how precious a gift we have in the life given to us.

While on the plane, I was happily consumed with the entertainment tv on the back of the chair in front of me. It wasn't until the captain made an announcement that went something like, "If you are a doctor, we ask your assistance in the rear of the plane"...did I know that something terribly wrong had happened. Again, it was like a scene of a movie. These kinds of things just really don't ever happen in real life.

Because I was located near the back of the train, I began to search for the source of the problem, and crane my neck to look behind me. What I saw shook me to the core.

One of my fellow team members and travel companion to Cologne was purple - and didn't appear to be breathing.

At this point, we were flying over the midwestern United States - and we turned around to head back to Chicago to get him some help.

They took him back to the galley in the rear portion of the plane and closed the curtains. Clearly, whatever was happening, they were trying to keep from the rest of us.

When we landed in Chicago, they had an ambulance waiting on the runway. My youth minister left the plane to stay with him...so we were left to wonder what had happened to our friend. We only had a few more hours before we would get to Houston.

Upon arriving in Houston, before heading to baggage claim and to see our families, they pull our entire group into a private room. One of the other ministers from our church was there - and we all knew something had gone terribly wrong. It was here, in this room, that we learned our friend Jim had passed away on our journey home.

Before we left to go find our families (who had also been informed of the incident), we were given the opportunity to process what this meant for our team and our trip. After several moments, I leave the room to go find my family.

Successfully making it through customs, I go to baggage claim and see my family waiting. We gather my luggage, exchange the money I had left over, and head home.

I would like to say that I was grieving for my friend Jim. If I'm being honest, I was the selfish 16-year-old that can only think of herself. And I didn't know Jim that well, but I knew he was ultimately in a better place.

The conversation on the ride home went something like this:
"So, mom and dad, there's this boy..."

"Oh, really, sweetie?"

"No, like, there really IS a boy. And he's German. And we are, like, going to be writing back and forth."

"Honey, what about what happened to Jim? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Did I mention there's, like, a German boy?"


...a little while later...

"Dad, you would have freaked out if you knew that a few nights ago, I was, like, lost on a train in Germany...in my boxers...and only socks on my feet..."

"Yes, honey, it's good I didn't know that happened. I would have been a little frazzled."

"Yeah. We got lost on the dining car. Jim was with us."

"Well, honey, I'm glad you're safe."

...

"I want to go back to Germany one day, but for now, I'm just looking forward to next summer when Matthias will be coming here..."

"That's a long time from now, sweetie."

"Maybe. But he's special. And we're going to write this year. It's going to be great."
_____________________________

And that year, we did write...