Today I write to you in clarity, not confusion. In gratitude, not in accusation. Without influence, both inside and out.
I write it here, where it might not be appropriate, where it might be lost, not in hopes of views but in hopes that this might be the best way to you.
I hope it’s okay.
Remember that time when you turned to me, in kind, hoping that I’d look you directly in the eye, nod, and tell you I understand? Just like how I always claim that I do that with others? And instead I looked deep into the distance and responded with logic, with conflict?
And sometimes, with nothing?
I think about that time now, much, much later than you had hoped, and wince. It hurts. It hurts how confusing that must have been. How disappointing, even. I’m learning, but in a grateful way. Because you reminded me that there are lots of things to learn.
Because sometimes I forget.
My hope is that deep down, I can convince you that those times when you let me be there, are the times I truly remember — the other stuff fades and evaporates. To a surprising degree.
Which is wonderful to learn. :)
This is long, winded, and reminds me of circles. This is an attempt to tell you one thing, one thing above all things that are worth telling.
And if you ask: are you saying this to me?
My answer is yes:
No matter who asks.