Nothing haunts us like the things we didn't do or the things we didn't say...

I wanted to write a letter to my best friend, and realized I don't really have one. You know, that someone you've known all your life, someone you share your hopes, fears, secrets, and dreams with. Someone who knows and understands the real you, and accepts you for who you are. Someone you trust with your life... Well, I don't have that, although you are the closest one I have to that.

Remember the first time we talked? You were confident and brash. I was awkward and shy... I thought (and I still do) that you're the funniest, most interesting, and most genuine person I've ever met. As the years went by, the jokes we shared became second nature to me. But I always get this feeling that there are parts of you that are kept hidden and unreachable. I'm quite sure you've thought the same of me. Other times, when I am fortunate, you let me see a different side of you, I get a glimpse of just how brilliant you are... It takes my breath away and my heart constricts painfully.

There's a doubtful, insecure, and hurting side of me that I struggle to control, for fear of appearing weak and needy. I always felt that I was never good enough, for you or for anyone else. I'm a mess of self hate and dark thoughts, and I have to battle my demons each day. I do know that you try to help me overcome the things that I deal with... I want to heal, to be compassionate, forgiving, kind, and strong in spirit. I want to be brave and fearless, to venture to know every aspect of you. I want to be able to take risks, even accept being vulnerable. If only I'd stop hiding behind secrets and things I don't say, then maybe, just maybe, we could have a deeper sense of friendship that we crave from each other.

Sometimes I want to cry. Not the silent and controlled tears, but loud and unrestrained sobbing. I want to let out all the pent up pain and grief and rage inside. I want to cry for myself and for others, for the tragic and ugly things humanity has to suffer through. I want to cry until I've let everything out, until I'm spent and empty, ready to be filled again.

Other times I turn to you. For comfort, for reassurance, for a distraction. I hope dealing with me isn't too much of a burden for you. And selfish person that I am, I don't think I've ever done the same for you. I can be oblivious and dense at times. The other half, I don't want to overstep the boundaries we've set up. I wouldn't want to set your world on fire, even if I was being burned alive. But it doesn't mean that I don't care. On the contrary, you are so important to me that I am afraid of ruining whatever this is that we have. You'd tell me if you need me, right? Please know that if you call, I'd do everything in my power to be with you and anything I can to help you.

Still there are other times when I lie awake in bed in the wee hours of the morning when I wonder what it would be like to fall asleep in your arms...

I know that I'm lost and searching, and God knows when I will be at peace with myself, but I'm trying. I won't hope, because hope is a passive-aggressive son of a barnacle. Everything is amplified a thousandfold when hope is shattered and I'm left feeling alone and wretched, to pick up  the pieces. Instead I will believe, because believing will drive me further that hope ever could. It tethers me to something real, so I can wander but not get lost... That's the beauty of faith and belief, I guess. It gives me a sense of purpose, a direction. So I will hold on to my last scraps of strength with my whole being and believe. My life may be tough, but I'm tougher.

Please be patient with me, my darling.
Know that in a sea of people, my eyes will always look for yours.