Geez, it's weird thinking back. I don't have any references to our stories anymore--"The Thing" as we dubbed it, since we could never figure out a name for it. I can't really remember the last time we had contact before this last incident. I remember we decided to be civil but that didn't hold apparently. Haha, my fault really; most of our problems were my fault.
But I don't feel such overwhelming guilt anymore. I've grown, changed, found new problems to tackle, and I get the feeling you'd say the same. MAN, what I wouldn't give to talk to you. I know we'd talk for hours and hours; if only I had an entire day of free time, remembered your number, and had the courage to follow through, we have so much to catch up on.
What are you doing now? I know you didn't walk at graduation. You probably have no idea that I know that. I'm fairly certain you're working and not in college. If you don't perfect your craft, your talent, I will call you on it (maybe; again that courage thing). Maybe school's not your thing; fine, just don't regret it several decades from now.
I don't really remember the whole process, the exact details to how we unraveled. I remember bitterness and hatred; I've gotten over it. Why not you? Why am I the center of your universe? What an ugly world I must create for you. Losing your sanity, mental instability- I will not be able to befriend you until you let me go. What are you expecting? Me to center you, to balance you? I can't do that; that's not in my power. I have no authority to validate you. Only He does.
Oh, Lord, show her Your Light, Your Love. Become her Center, Purpose, Meaning. Only then will You be able to repair her, repair us. I would like to be friends again; I miss her dearly, miss hearing from her. I miss who she truly is, not this version, twisted by anger, wearing a mask to hide the gaping wound.
Lord, do what You do best- Your work.
