“I can see ahead only into dark, sordid alleys, where the filth of my life lies, unglorified, unchanged – transfigured by nothing.” Sylvia Plath
I must not bother with pleasantries. The world fills your ears and mind with such. Feigned and real, they have no purpose in my reason for writing to you. You already know how I feel, Nora; I love you. i fail to say it often because I hate you most days. The thin line between the two emotions has been blurred and now it seems I portray the latter more than is necessary. A fact that has sadly led you to take on faux vanity in an attempt to bury this from yourself and the world. I weep for you. I love you and I know not how to show it. I want to shake you out of your stupor and remind you that second to God, no other will love you like I do. No one will appreciate your words, fears and strength like I do. The hate stems from disappointment…that we both know. I see your struggles transform into failure and I am at a loss for words. You can be better, Nora. You are surrounded by people that long to love you and yet you falter; you push them away. Your friends and family are at the peak of their sympathy. Who can blame them? They have done everything within AND BEYOND their abilities to help but alas it is never good enough. You are searching for a purpose. For a way to be useful in this cesspool of a world. You have failed to find it in love and you have failed to find it in your career. Fear not. This is no reflection on you. This is a struggle common to all men. Much like you, they hide it. You drown in self pity and self doubt and you seek to undo these by fixing things that are beyond your abilities. The attempts to heal the broken men you love is useless. They are not for you to fix. Your purpose cannot be delusions imbedded in the hunger to create love. Love cannot be created dear one. It will blossom; on its own. They are not men. They are boys. You either wait for them to grow or you find ones that are already grown. But then again you are not yet there. Your wings are yet to sprout and you still have so much to learn from the world and the people here. But most of all from God. He alone can give you the purpose you so desperately long for. Nora, be patient. Yes, I know you are not one for patience. But rushing into things has robbed you of lessons; from fully and truly feeling the things that make life what it is. Am I harsh in my words? Yes! Because this is the cure to your curse. I must break you down then build you up…because I do love you. My words, like yours, are endless. But for now this is what matters. Take each breath with the full knowledge that it is a blessing. The bad days should never dim the good days. Laugh, cry, dance and be you. The woman I am waiting for you to be, Nora.
The Woman you COULD be.