you’d probably find sick satisfaction in me saying you ruined me, you’d like to think that you’ve destroyed my ability to open up to anyone but you. I will not give you that type of empowerment. you feel justified in the sense you have some type of hold over me, that no matter what happens; I’ll always come running back to you. I’d love to be the bearer of bad news, and you should know you do not have that grasp on me. this constant game that you’re playing, there is no winner. whether you figure it out sooner or later, I know you will come to learn that this game is a full round about circle, a game you keep playing until someone decides to give up. ever since I was a kid, I watched the dysfunctional relationship that was my parents. I was raised thinking it was acceptable. I think I’ve come to terms with the fact I will never live that white picket fence life. My relationships will always be hectic, my life will never be simple and I will never see in a black and white concept of how other expect me to perceive. Everyone around me says things like “you deserve better” and “brianna, you need some healthy and stable”. Why? So I can be confused and frustrated because that language is so foreign to me? You remind me a lot of my dad. and I think that’s what pulls me into you. I probably never told you, but my dad had a drinking problem too. No, I probably told you but you were too caught up in yourself to be really listening. Yeah, my dad did that too. Always in one ear and out the other… like when the doctor told him he was dying, he continued to drink. Or when my mother said she was living him, he continued to screw up. You’re stubborn like my dad, hard headed like the Marine he was. You’re set in your ways, you think you’ve got it all figured out. Did I mention my dad had a drinking problem like yours? You’re scared, you’re confused, you’re frustrating because you don’t understand why. He was the same way. He cursed the sky for not comprehending his feelings, why his heart felt one way and his head felt another, why he didn’t want to drink but his bones begged for the warmth of the lager… He cursed his dad. Just like you do. Like the time we talked about your dad not caring about the monsters you thought were hiding under your bed. How he told you not be depressed, but read the bible and pray because all of your fears will be answered with the power of God. How he hit you for questioning why God never fixed anything. Or the night we drank a bottle of dark rum, laid on the kitchen floor of your new place. You were yelling about how you would keep the fridge door open as long as you’d like, and no one was going to hit you for such a careless act. We laid there in silence when you began crying. I wasn’t used to seeing my dad cry either. You told me you were sorry. It was rare to see my dad apologize too. I didn’t know what you were sorry for, and it didn’t matter. I took you to your bed, held you in my arms, and let you fall into a slumber of drunken words that weren’t met to be remembered in the morning. There’s a reason you’ll never see this letter, but there’s reasons I had to write it. You call me crazy and bitter and angry when I come to with words of exclusively committing or confront you with something I’m unhappy about. My dad used to do the same thing to my mom. Finding comfort with a different girl in your bed every other night, is something you make for yourself. I am no one to make the judgement and tell you that not alright. But I am aloud to tell you, that making me feel like I was the only girl in that bed is not alright. You caress me and kiss me like, I’m the only light in your world. Like I’m the reason your sun comes up the next day. Realizing that I’m not, is like having my entire sun taken away. The light is dim and it’s hard to see anything else around me but the faint detailing of your eyes. There’s this quote from a movie that explains how I feel with you more then I could do in my own words, it does something like this.. “It’s that thing when you’re with someone, and you love them and they know it, and they love you too and you know it… but it’s a party… and you’re both talking to other people, and you’re laughing and shining… and you look across the room and catch each other’s eyes but… but not because you’re possessive or it’s precisely sexual but because… that is your person in this life. And it’s funny and it’s sad, but only because this life will end, no it’s this secret world that exists right there in public, unnoticed, that no one else knows about. It’s sort of like how they say different dimensions exist all around us, but we don’t have the ability to perceive them. That’s what I want out of a relationship… or just life, I guess.” The movies called Frances Ha and I doubt you’ll ever watch it, because you don’t like independent films but maybe you will for my sake. I see you, in all aspects. When you walk into a room, you’re all I see. When you give me those salty morning kisses, my limbs forget anything they know about gravity. But when you tell me that you’re there for me, I know it’s only when it’s convenient and easy for you. and when I tell you I love you and you say it back, I know it’s only a drunken confusion between your head and your heart. I don’t think you know what love is. I want to be the person who shows you that you can love and can be loved. I want you to know that you can make a home inside of my soul, where all your demons and angels can rest peacefully. I want to be your good and bad days, I want you to be able to tell me you’re not okay. You don’t need to put up this wall, because I’ll eventually break it down. You might be a lot like my dad, but so am I. We were both warriors and we’ll never go down without a fight.