Warrior Blue

by Kelsey Kingsley

The ghosts here were a lot friendlier than the memories at home.

The sweet melody of her voice was a ray of light, a slender stream of brightness through a pin-pricked hole in a never-ending canopy of dark. I froze on the spot, unable to move an iota of an inch. She’d rendered me speechless, motionless, and if it weren't for the vibration of my heart, I would've assumed I was dead.

"Messy can still be beautiful."

I found that beneath all the black and pastels, we weren't very different.

She laid her arm across my waist, pressing her cheek to my chest, before breathing a sigh against my heart. And my heart sighed back.

I took a deep breath, focusing harder on the saint in my heart and less on the devil in my brain.

every life, every day, should be celebrated. It’s all precious and sacred.”

“Because there are certain things in our lives—certain people—that are just supposed to be there. We don’t choose them, or what they’ll mean to us; they’re just a part of who we are.”

“And what is it you think I am to you?” I asked instead, surprised to find my voice so hushed, I could barely hear it myself. And without hesitation, she answered, “You’re the man I’m meant to love.”

But God doesn’t always package the best ones in what we’d expect. That’s what makes them harder to find. And more worth the wait.”

“You fight hard and love even harder, and that’s what I want. I want you.”