I want to hate you. I want to hurt you. I want to open your eyes to what you’re doing.
But I don’t. But I won’t. But I can’t.
Instead, all I have are knots in my shoulders, eyes that carry larger baggage than I do, and an exhale that never seems to end.
I love you. I hope you find healing. I want you to survive this.
And I want to say:
You are more than this relationship.
You are more than the last drop at the end of a long night.
You are more than the demons in your head.
You are more than the names they call you.
You are more than what you’ve helped destroy.
You are more.
You are smart.
You are vibrant.
You are kind.
You are loving.
My hope is that you’ll read this letter and believe everything I’ve written.
My fear is that you’ll read this letter and be convinced that I’m a liar.
But I’ll continue to hope. I’ll continue to try. I’ll continue to love you…even if you can’t love yourself.
*All letters in the Dear You, Love Me series can be found here*