Sometimes we stumble across hidden gems.
In the summer of 2015, I moved into a house with a friend. Somehow, while living in the house, I ended up owning a hiking backpack, one that you might use while backpacking across Europe.
I can’t remember whether I found it while living in the house or if I got it from an old dump at the edge of Georgia. (I playfully call the old dump the Crack House.)
Without going into great detail, I kind of “disappeared” from the world for about a year, and during that time, I thought the backpack had vanished, along with some tennis rackets, my sleeping bag, and a few other items.
While having dinner with my father and stepmother about a week ago, Brenda (stepmom) said to me, “Hey, I was wondering if you knew about the backpack in your closet. Do you want to take that to Louisiana with you?”
“Backpack?” I asked. “I don’t have anything in my closet.” At this point, she’d been using my old bedroom’s closet as her own, so she knew more about the inside of the closet than I did.
After our dinner, I went back to my parents’ house, dove into the back corner of my closet, and found this massive backpack.
I thought to myself, I don’t see much hiking happening while I’m in Louisiana, but why not? So, I took the backpack with me.
When I got to my new home and after setting everything up in my bedroom, I found a compact leather journal inside the massive backpack.
What should I find but poetry from its previous owner? (And suddenly my mind flashes to the diary of Tom Riddle and the poor possession of Ginny Weasley. . . Haha!) The mysterious author calls himself Alpha.
Enjoy this once hidden gem with me:
“You stay with
Me like the stars
In the sky.
Even when I can’t see you. . .
I know you’re there.
Understand that you read true love.
Pain in its most beautiful form
Poured onto paper.
Hope, Faith, and light in a Hopeless, faithless,
and Dark World.
It’s all I have to believe in.
If I lost the faith,
Only then will I have been crazy.
I assure you, my love.
I am sane.
P. S. I miss you.