You see, the thing is, I see your heart. It is that which I have always loved. That's why all your behavior since the day I declared my feelings hasn't changed my opinion of you or my feelings for you--because I see through it. I see that it is not a reflection of your heart, of who you truly are, but that it comes from a place of deep fear and hurt. And I understand. Believe me, I so understand. Just like when Sir Perditus saw Princess Viola's scar, and immediately understood her, because he had so many scars of his own. And I see your heart, as he saw her naked while she bathed.
You opened your heart to me, in the beginning, because I didn't exhibit any romantic interest in you. I just liked you. And so you felt safe to let me in, just a little. Then we had that time, when I wasn't sure how I felt about you, and was beginning to wonder if I was falling in love. You picked up on it, and shut me out, hard. I talked with your mother, she reassured you that I had no intentions, and you let me back in. But then you regretted how you had shut down--you told me this yourself, although you couched it in the third person. You said that it turned out that "he" hadn't been interested anyway, and that it was all very embarrassing. And I, equally shy and embarrassed, admitted that maybe the guy was just covering for his feelings by
saying he hadn't been interested at all. I've never forgotten the way you looked at me when I said that.
But there were times after that, when that wall came up again. Any time I got too close to the vulnerable parts of your heart. I didn't really understand at the time what was happening, or why. But now I see it clearly. And I see that when, after I told you that I was in love with you, when you called me "acquaintance", it wasn't because it was true, but exactly because it wasn't. You felt that connection, just as I did, and you felt how deep and strong it was. And it scared you to death. You had let me in, as a friend and a big brother, past the first perimeter of your defenses, and you needed, more than anything else at that moment, to push me back out. You had trusted me, because I posed no "threat", and you suddenly felt betrayed, alarmed, and very vulnerable. And I am sorry for that. I truly am. Not just because of its painful consequences to myself, but for making you feel that way. For not having been able to handle the whole thing better from the very beginning. Hurting or frightening you causes me many times the pain that I feel when I am, myself, hurt or frightened. Imagine how you would feel if you accidentally ran over a puppy. Now multiply it by ten. That's how I feel every time I cause you the slightest pain or fear.
So why, then, have I continued, all this time, to pour out my thoughts and feelings to you like this? Why not just leave you alone completely? Partly because I had to, because I needed a way to give voice to what was in my own heart, lest it kill me. But even more, because I have believed that I had a job to do. That loving you was a vocation, given to me by God.
When I first perceived clearly that he was speaking to me about you; when I first truly came to terms with what he was saying, and with what was already in my own heart, and yielded to his leading, he spoke to me very clearly, as I was praying. He said, "I am not commanding you to love her. I am asking you if you will." I said that I would. Then he said, "Wait: will you love her,
no matter what?" And I again said "Yes." That was a promise and a covenant.
Then, after everything had gone seemingly to hell, he sent me a message in a dream. In it, I saw you trapped inside a crumbling house, that was falling down around you. You were huddled in a corner, afraid to move. Then I was outside, and physically coming up on the house. There was a crowd gathered outside, and they were calling for you to come out, to save yourself. I came up to the crowd, and then He came up behind me and spoke to me. He said "
You have to go in and save her."
And that is what I have been trying to do, by continuing to offer you my eternal and unconditional love. I have been hoping that one day, you would be able to lower your defenses, and give me the opportunity to truly earn your trust, to perfectly prove the truth, depth, and strength of my love. I have hoped, all this time, that one day you would say, like Merrie Gresham in the interview I posted earlier, "He overwhelmed me with love."
Because, you see, I believe that you have been reading what I've been writing, all along. I believe that there is something in you, in that heart which you guard so closely, that needs to hear what I say to you. And it has made me happy, since I can't give you anything else, to be able to continue to give that to you. I believe that something in you yearns for the kind of love that I offer. That a deep part of you
wants to accept and receive it. But that you haven't yet been able to overcome that paralyzing and debilitating fear. You have come close several times, but you have always drawn back. Often it was likely because I did or said the wrong thing, or failed to do or say the right thing, at exactly the right time. (Particularly, you can add to the list of things which I regret, that post which made you stop blogging. I deeply, profoundly regret that. I went too far that time, out of my own anguish, fear, and desperation, and I am truly sorry.)
These are the things, that is, that I
have believed. At times like this, it gets very hard.