How’re you? That’s how normal letters begin, right? But oh well, what’s normal about this? Who still does such letters these days? But we both know I love defying status quo.
Maybe I should begin by my summary; there was a line, it was crossed. This is me trying to trace that line. When it was crossed, I can’t quite recall. Perhaps it was at the very beginning. Maybe buns, eggs and vulnerability were the perfect recipe for disaster. Maybe hands held lead to places further than ought to have been wandered. Perchance honesty was a tonic which slowly sipped intoxicated. Long conversations have a way of peering into souls that maybe should have remained hidden.
Broken is beautiful. Broken captivates. Broken has a way of spurring one to fight past those sharp edges not minding bleeding in the process. Broken mayhap was my undoing.
You’re an enigma. I was to text you that today. Mystery fascinates. Bit by bit, it drew. Those dark sheers keeping the world out beckoned. Adventure is a drug. I ventured to see. Mystery couldn’t remain unsolved.
Well I should have known better. Sometimes dark sheers hide holes that are easy to fall into. Climbing out was a process. Each time I got to the edge or even made it past the sheers; something would come up and remind me that I wasn’t too far from that pit. Suddenly the ground underneath would become slippery and before I knew it, I’d be right back at the pit. This back and forth, sigh… something needs to give.
If I have to lay this at the altar in order to save what’s left, then so be it. Sometimes it’s necessary to risk losing something to keep from damaging it further.
I’m probably not as strong as I always assumed. Sometimes all it takes is intertwined hands crossing a road to reveal that. This is hard but some conversations can’t be left unspoken.
Just in case you were wondering, the light on stage isn’t what draws. It’s the backstage where masks are loosened a bit. The place where few get to see becomes the most intriguing.
Broken vessels almost bare to see. Broken is beautiful. A heart imperfect but somehow pours itself out to people. Sonship that inspires. Prayers that are sincere. Honesty. Eyes that are exposed to imperfection but don’t turn away in an instant. A heart that loves God. A worshipper who doesn’t always see it.
Vulnerability exposes wounds. Wounds require healing. How this healing happens, I’m not certain. What I know is that unrequited affections wound deeper; reciprocated ones heal. And sometimes, shutting out the wound heals effectively too.
Whether this is goodbye or hello, time will tell. When all is said and done; thank you. For helping me learn how cocoons are not permanent dwelling places. For inspiring greater honesty. For reminding me what loving people as God asks, is like. For introducing me to people who lavished me with that love. For being used to spark my creativity in ways I hadn’t imagined. For the gift of friendship. For simply being you.