Anonymous

I don’t want to say that I hate you or that I’ve wasted my time, because I haven’t really wasted any of my time, nor do I hate you. If anything, you know that I love you, but not the way that one would probably assume, rather the only way I can, the only way you've allowed. People ask me, “What do you see in [this person]? Why do you like [this person]?” and I honestly can never give a definitive answer. All I know is that I do see something in you.

I would not characterize myself as an especially intuitive person, because I think that if I were, my past “relationships” would have more to show for it. In fact, I would even suggest that I deceive myself of certain, relatively obvious truths by maintaining a little too much “hope” (even if just subconscious) and having watched a little too many Disney fairy tales growing up. Unfortunately, the fact is, most girls fall victim to that same misconception of “happily ever after,” so I’m not so unusual in that way.

Therefore, I’m not saying that I see something in you that no one else does or that can’t be found unless looked for. What I am saying is that, somehow, I know you are capable of great things: great love, great change, great motion, great importance, and great influence. I’m not referring to this "greatness" in a general sense like “everyone has a purpose and can be great if they follow God’s will.” No. I’m being explicitly comparative when I say that you have the capability of being greater than a lot of other people.

But, no, for some reason, you refuse to get out of your own way. You revel and wallow in your self-hatred because it gives you some sort of ridiculous “excuse” to remain pseudo-apathetic/vacuous and immobile. “Oh, I’m a bad person, so you can’t expect me to behave with decency/respect and act right” is, in effect, how you are living your life. You avoid anything that you don’t want to face, even if it’s not truly frightening. You run away from and ignore something so easily fixable, consequently creating more of a mess than if you had just faced it to begin with.

It’s pathetic… pitiable really, which I would argue is why I haven’t let you be for all this time. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing while watching you dig yourself deeper and deeper into that frustratingly avoidant hole of yours. Even if I risked looking foolish, psychopathic (the accusation of which would render my inherent exoneration upon applying the definition), obsessive, pathetic, delusional, or completely lacking in any self-worth or respect, I had to do something. I had to communicate this truth to you.

However, during this time, I’ve also been habitually trying to communicate to my own self that I would not and will not be able to save you from yourself.  That’s between you and God, which I’ve been trying to acquiesce. I’ve prayed for you over and over again, imploring that He not leave you alone no matter how far you run, and that His voice in your head will not be silent until you have surrendered.  I know your soul is saved, but the quality of your life isn’t. Don’t settle.

I swear that I have not said any of this out of spite, but only out of the interminable and relentless burden I feel concerning you. Most of the time, I wish that I didn’t care at all, because it would make a lot more sense for me not to care considering our “relationship,” if that’s what you would call it. But no matter how much time passes without any reciprocated correspondence or face-to-face interaction, it never softens the sting and never dulls the distress I feel when I'm reminded of you.

I didn’t get to know you near as much as I would have liked to nor as much as the privileges I’ve taken in all of these assumptions would suggest. But I know what you allowed me to know and that is what has haunted me.