Dear Friend

Dear Friend,

I miss you.  I love you.  I hope that you know that.  My world has been torn apart.  I know you know that.  Please answer me this: Why?  I don't understand.  Was this what you wanted?  or a byproduct or cursed chance?

I know you don't understand me and I know you don't understand what this is like for me.  I'm going to tell you even though it pains me, for out of pain I write.  I lived my life you others, always.  I believed that that was why I'm on this Earth.  you have me doubting that.  I lived to see joy in the faces of others and found my joy as we laughed together, as we cried together, as we sang together, as we screamed together.  I always wore my heart on my sleeve.  If I was happy you knew it, if I was sad you knew it.  My mask was my life, painfully and brutally obvious.  How did you miss that?  Didn't you see?  It's obvious you never cared for me because if you had you would have seen my heart and life laid bare before you.  without knowing you stepped on it.  Or did you know?  Was this your intention?  I loved you with a love of purity, honesty and openness.  Why do you hate me?  I'm lost.  Lost in a chamber of my own thoughts.  Every day this plays through my mind and it tortures me.  I have no love, I have no touch, I have no escape.  Please, I beg you, save me from this; save me from myself.  There is no one here for me and nothing here for me.  Know that you have thrown a torch on my life.  One month ago you burnt me and everyday the pain burns it way to my center.  Everyday I fight it but it's futile.  I know I'm not going to win.  By myself I can't.  I call out to my God and he's refused to answer me no matter how hard I pray, no matter the promises, no matter how bare I lay my soul before him.  But tell me friend, how do I lay a charred soul bare?  So I call you my friends, those like you who I loved, and they look to me with love.  They look with love, but not with hands that help.  Everyday I hear, "I understand", "I know", "I miss you too", "I love you too".  But you know what, I'm tired of the lies.  Whether they realize what they say or not it hurts.  You don't understand!!  how could you?!  You have your life, you have your love, you have your joy, all you don't have is me, a small loss.  I've lost it all! It all!  I scrape the dirty grounds of my life to find some sort of scrap and every time I do it withers before me.  No you don't know!  You can think you do, but you don't! Do you know what's it's like to be separated from all that you love? Betrayed and cast out of the place that you love? Doubting yourself and doubting all that you know?  You don't know.  And I pray that you never will because it is hell.  You may miss me too, but not with the intensity.  I live my life on the verge of tears.  Tears of loss and tears of anger for what has been taken from me.  Even as I write this they fill me eyes ready to pour out at the slightest trigger.  I love you.  You say you love me too.  All I can think of is the saying, "you don't know what you've got til it's gone".  That is one of the most true statements I have ever heard.  I've lost so much and it's taken this to realize how much I had.  I knew that my heart was there, but having it ripped from my flesh has made me realize the vast extent of my love.

There is so much chaos and turmoil inside of me and I just can't understand any of this.  I still love you and want the best for you, whoever you are.  I miss you my friend.  Even though I struggle and even though I'm drowning I look to people like Horatio Spafford and sing with him:

"When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
 When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

But, Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul!

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul."

Peace, Love and Joy be with you my friend.