Sometimes I wonder.
Tonight, for instance, when I just finished reading my second book in as many weeks about a soldier now state side trying to recover their own lives, I wonder.
I wonder if things would've turned out differently if you would've held my hand or if I had kept writing you letters. I didn't mean to abandon you to adulthood & war, but when my best friend died, any word out of me was impressive because I just barely held on.
Sometimes I think that maybe if I knew more about the man you've become or you text me some time other than when you were drinking that maybe something would happen. Especially since I'm pretty sure your family wishes you would marry me.
I can't help it, I guess. Late nights, good books, quiet...they leave me free to wonder. It's just that you have beautiful hands and you cheat at any game you play. Plus you listen to me and you created that pointless game when I was sick. I know you've got a good heart, but I think you're angry with God because you think He's the reason for the loss.
I still hope you see around the anger & realize God's been waiting all along to give you eyes & strength to see through the pain. It looks bleak, I know, but something new & beautiful will come from it.
Really.
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