A letter to a dear friend

I've been there. I've had this same sparkling eyes. I've felt this same uncontrolled heartbeating and this cold sweat before.

Posted by Fellipe Brito on November 1, 2016

I’ve been there. I’ve had this same sparkling eyes. I’ve felt this same uncontrolled heartbeating and this cold sweat before. I remember this intense adrenaline running through my body, this almost supernatural force pushing me forward and this absolute certainty that together we could do the impossible.

I remember how it is to feel the boldness that only the youngsters feel. I can’t forget how amazed I was when we fell in love for the first time. I can’t count how many nights we spent planning our future. Do you remember that? I used to write you serenades. I could sit down at my cheap guitar or my old piano and sing to you the most sincere songs. I would gather my friends and offer you the most beautiful concert you have ever had.

I’ve trusted you. I’ve given myself to you not only once, but many times. Ive never had this love for anyone other than you. It was pure, naive, deep, powerful. It was me, completely. Nothing else.

I would fight for you. God forgive me, I still do that! I’ve seen your beauty, but I’ve also seen that the deeper the love, the more painful the wound.

Why have you done that to me?

I would not say that you had trashed my love. You have trashed me!

I was not simply betrayed by you: I was beaten, bullied, derided, embarrassed and forsaken.

I never left you, you threw me out and closed the doors to me. Like a flea-bitten dog I was driven as far as possible and then left there, to be eaten alive by monsters while licking my own wounds.

It would be easier if you had just said “no”. But you made it sure to destroy each one of my dreams, even the smallest one. You scoffed off my talents. You forced me into a path where neither of my talents could be used, so I would lose my fluency and feel unfit even for the simplest role.

Worse than that, you’ve hurt not only me, but my family and all my friends. I’ve lost them all, I’m alone in a foreign country with no arms to hug because you pushed me away from anything I ever loved.

They say the worst pain is the one that hurts our soul. How do you protect yourself from that?

You know I’ve always loved you. I’d given up everything just to be close to you again, to rebuild our dreams, and it consumes me. I hate myself for loving you.

How could you find me here? Why don’t you just leave me alone? My open wounds were finally turning into scars when you showed up again. And now, here I am again. Surrounded by people who love you. Young people, like I was one day. It hurts me so bad to look into their eyes and see myself on them oh, how that hurts.

For a few minutes, I can even forget that pain and smile again, but I know you. You’ve done the same thing for so many people, why do we still love you?

You have hurt those who love you. You’ve mistreated the ones who serve you. For Gods sake, you have even killed the one who most loved You. Why am I still here?

Like a betrayed wife or a spanked child, it is just so hard to get close to you again. When I was young, I could run 100 miles to meet you, but now it hurts me so bad to take mere 5 steps closer to you. No one can see my open wounds, but they hurt as much as they did on the day you made them.

Ive got to be fair, too. I blame you for a lot of bad things, but I have to blame you for some of the most wonderful memories I have.

We’ve been so happy for a while, do you remember? We made a life together, we helped so many people. We had fun and danced in the rain. We had many nights of love and every time I look into the mirror I blame you for the wounds, but I also blame you for the muscles I have today. I’m stronger because of you.

My body wants to run from you as far as I can, run from your pain, from your memories, from the people who are close to you and remind me of who I used to be, but my soul and my heart love you so deep that every time I try to take a step away, I take 10 closer.

It is more painful than anything I’ve ever felt. I hate you. I love you. I don’t believe you and I don’t see my life without you. I would like to never see you again, but I know that next Sunday I will be there giving my best to rebuild our life together, our dreams, our wonderful world. Not for the sake of us, but for the love we both have for Him.

It is nice to see you, and I hate myself for falling in love again with you, dear church.