March 8th, 2019: The Letter I will Never Send.

For the longest time, well, since I really met you, there was something that always drew me to you. Was it your compelling presence? Your extreme work ethic? Was it the way you could make the most insignificant person in the room feel the utmost significance? I am most certain that it was all of those things combined. I knew you possessed many qualities I have always admired and sought out in an individual.

I have always said, I never noticed you until we competed together in June of 2018; that was a total fallacy. I have lied to myself about you for quite some time (the entire time I have had the pleasure of knowing you). I have learned through this process that it’s best to be truthful, not only to others, but to myself as well. Here is my truth, one that I have been suppressing due to my own insecurities and unwillingness to be vulnerable. You have many interests, work extremely hard in every endeavor, agreed to a life of positivity, and have an unwavering confidence that is extremely attractive.

It takes a rare and unique person to get my sustained attention. You are special, captivating, and compelling. Moreover, you have accepted me for who I truly am and for that I am so grateful. I love myself when I’m with you. When you’re in the room, everything else fades away. I only see you. When we’re together it feels electric. There is an intangible force, one that draws me to you both emotionally and physically.
You bring out the life in me. We bring the life out in each other.

“[W]e must recognize that ethics requires us to risk ourselves precisely at moments of unknowingness, when what forms us diverges from what lies before us, when our willingness to become undone in relation to others constitutes our chance of becoming human. To be undone by another is a primary necessity, an anguish, to be sure, but also a chance–to be addressed, claimed, bound to what is not me, but also to be moved, to be prompted to act, to address myself elsewhere, and so to vacate the self-sufficient “I” as a kind of possession. If we speak and try to give an account from this place, we will not be irresponsible, or, if we are, we will surely be forgiven.”

When it’s over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world

Life isn’t designed to be easy, comfortable, and safe. It’s meant to be hard, and I welcome the challenge. You’re worth it. I haven’t advocated for us, until now. I no longer want to hold myself back, I want to push myself forward. No distance will change the way I’ve grown to care about you.