But guess what. He gets it. I believe he gets it. Which is why I'm writing more for him than anyone else.
I don't understand why you allow me rarely to see the fruits of my labor. You know I look a good pat on the back more than anyone I know. I thrive off of affirmation and I unfortunately cave under the critiques of my own self. I'm my own worst critic as they say.
But here is my issue. I love someone who makes poor decisions. I love them so much I can't stay silent. So I speak truth. Prophecy is a gift that you gave me. I cannot hold it in. If I do not speak your truth the rocks will cry out…and I will also feel an emptiness inside. I was made to speak the truth of your word.
Yet, I sympathize with Jeremiah when he says,
"You are always righteous, Lord,when I bring a case before you. Yet I would speak with you about your justice: why does the way of the wicked prosper?"
Jeremiah 12:1
So I love this person. I love them when they are distant. I love them when they "come home." I love them when they avoid me for some reason at all cost, despite the fact that I've told them no matter what that I love them. And I love them though I feel completely used because by the time they come home, it is because they need something. Or everything.
And I gave! I gave all I had in hopes and with prayer that it would be worth something. That it would be a turning point. That I would have the opportunity to see you work in their lives in a positive way that would have a reverse affect.
And now I'm just pissed.
To you friend:
The confusion lies herein. I have been hurt so many times by you in the past and finally came to the conclusion to avoid the relationship all together to spare myself the heartache of feeling used. The history of our relationship involves a very un healthy diagram.
You call me close yet treat me this way only when you need something from me. I tell you the truth when you ask and you avoid me like the plague until you need me again. Repeat consistently for __ years.
A few months ago, for the first time since I shared with you a significant event in my life --which you briefly noted before continuing to talk about your life-- you asked if we could get together. We did for a happy reunion during which you shared with me that you needed a place to live. I was happy to offer you everything I could and did so with no strings attached, or so I thought. But I guess there were some strings and I'm sorry. I thought we were finally the kind of friends you always said we were and I always wished we could be. I hoped that when you said you were telling me the whole story, you really were. I hoped it meant that for the first time I saw something in you that cared for others and not just for yourself.
I feel like I had it wrong. I feel like now I see that I was just a stepping stone in the grand scheme of getting where you want to be.
So thanks for your friendship. Thanks for teaching me what it means to really love someone.
A lot of people ask me why I care and to be honest, I hate sometimes that I do. I wish I didn't care as much and sometimes I wish that your decisions wouldn't consume my life. I wish I didn't care as much as I do and I wish I didn't love as much as I did.
And when I say love, I don't mean the feeling.
I mean the molding of my heart to give when there is nothing to gain in return.
When God told me it was the right thing to do, I thought he meant it was the right thing for me to do for you. Now I see that it was the right thing to do for me.
I started this letter thinking it would go to you. Hated to send it because I don't want to cut you off and I feel that any type of confrontation will. Maybe someday but not now. It's clearly too raw and undignified.
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