It’s been almost four years since I first wrote you a letter, and so much has changed. Four years isn’t a long time, but reading that letter feels like a glimpse into another life. In a lot of ways, I am a different person today.
I still love you. That much remains the same. I am still waiting, and I still have faith that you will find me someday. But that someday seems farther away now than it did four years ago, and I can no longer see it clearly.
So much has happened. And someday I will tell you all about it; I will cry in your arms and tell you about the hurt and the heartbreak and the confusion that have me stumbling now, hesitant to come closer to you because I would not have you see me like this.
There are some battles yet that I have to win on my own before I can face you. I don’t want to give myself to you broken; I want to be able to love you with a heart that is whole and brave and unafraid.
But I will still need you. There are struggles that I cannot face alone, and I want you there. I need you there, and I need to know that you will not leave halfway through. I need to know that you will fight for me, even when the enemy is myself.
And perhaps I may need to fight for you, as well. Perhaps we both have walls that need to be broken down before we can belong together. When that time comes, I want to be strong enough and wise enough not to run away.
Until then, darling, wait for me. Wait with me. Our time will come, love, when we are both ready. But even now, no matter what, I love you. I love you not knowing who you are, or where you are, or whether you are thinking of me at all. I love you not knowing when I will be with you. Because one thing I do know: no matter how many times I stumble on this road, you are walking this path, too, and in the perfect time, you will find me.