Dear You

Dear You,

Sonny keeps telling me to fight, fight for what I want, for what I feel is mine. She says that you fought for me the first time, with Handsome, and now it’s my turn. But I can’t help but feel as if that isn’t what you want.

Seeing you with her broke my heart all over again. I thought I was over being completely shattered, it turns out I’m not. And now because I stood there debating weather to answer your text tonight or just go to bed, and chose the first option, I’ll be up all night.

I have dreams, vivid dreams, ones I haven’t shared because I don’t want to interfere. They all revolve around that pink dress in the closet. They all revolve around the Blue King, they all sit deep within me. When Charming reached around the other day and rubbed my knee like you did, I lost it, bawled like a big fucking baby. Sonny says I can have whatever I want if I just fight.

But I’m not sure fighting is an option, not at this moment in time anyway. My life hasn’t improved any, the job has, but the family aspect still sucks, my health still sucks, I don’t have much to offer you but the heart in my chest, and right now it’s not to healthy either. I don’t know how your relationship is, I remember what it was like in March, but I figured since your still with her its improved…..

Maybe all I need is to just get away. Not seeing you or the guys, not turning everytime I hear a bike, not hoping one day you’ll walk into the store and wanna talk. Not sitting in the clearing wishing you’d show up. Not dream about the brick streets and see that picture everytime I turn on this computer. Maybe that’s all it will take to heal, to forget.

I don’t know what I want to say with this letter. Usually I have time to think about it, but lately I haven’t really been thinking about the hurt and pain, well until Saturday that is.

I want to fight so fucking bad. So bad that I can taste it in my mouth, so bad my muscles ache. But will fighting do me any good?

I doubt it….

Love ya, always, no matter what.

Becki Ann

Dear You. The Second Letter

Dear You,

I’m not sure what my intentions are with this letter. I’m not sure you follow the blog any more, although a small piece of me hopes you do, hopes you still think about me. It’s selfish and I know that, but considering you consume a lot of my thoughts I don’t find it horribly selfish. Anyway where am I going with this…

I wish that we could be friends, respectful, truthful, real friends. Not the kind of “friends” we are now, essentially two ships who pass in the night. We know the other is there but we don’t acknowledge each other. I wish we could talk, talk like we did before we dated when we were just friends, even though it wouldn’t be the same.

Earlier, when you left early, claiming to be tired… It bugged me. The conversation I was having with Abbs you had walked on in the middle of. I should have stopped talking, saved a little respect for you. But a small, awful, part of me wanted you to feel the pain I once felt.

It seems that no matter how strong I try to build myself up to be I can’t hold it. I can’t keep it from crumbling. I preach what will be, will be. Right now this new man, he’s what’s meant to be for this moment, who knows maybe he’s whats meant to be till the end. I will be honest though, the other night I wished it was you I was kissing. I wanted you to be the one I was shooting with. I wanted you to be the one who made me feel the rush. But the rush I felt from him, it was different, how I’m not sure yet.

But it wasn’t you. I’ll always have a soft spot for you, a piece of my heart that you will own forever, a soft place for you to fall. We both may move on to love other people, but you’ll always own that piece of me. You’ll always own the memory of being on the bike with your hand on my knee. You’ll own those late summer nights. Remember the first time you wrapped your arm around me, you’ll always own that to.

I’m dreading swinging my leg over his bike, I know you’ll own that piece of me too. A big part of me is begging to sell my bike and get away from guys who ride, because it’ll be so painful. But I know that for my sake I can’t do that. I however won’t date another man in the club, out of respect for you.

I won’t give up shooting though, I’ve promised myself that. It’s not a piece you will own, it’s a piece I’ll never let a man own. But the clearing and my first year deer hunting, you’ll own that. Remember where we first kissed, remember the song? You’ll own that bar and that song.

The final piece you will own is the end. I’m sorry, but I can’t find any mercy there. What you did, what you called me... You have to own that, and I can’t change it. But I will forgive it, if you ask me to.

I guess my point with this letter is I miss you, I always will. I wish we could be friends, the real kind. If I had it my way we’d be back in each other’s arms. But obviously it’s not meant to be.

Love you babe, forever and always. Don’t worry nothing will change that, cause your still my backwoods boy. Bet you don’t remember that….

Love,

Becki Ann

P.S. My beautiful pink and camo dress came, to bad I won’t ever be able to wear it, wish I hadn’t ordered it back when.

Dear You

Dear You,

This is probably going to become a pretty painful post. It’ll not only be painful for me to write, it may be painful for you to read. If you can’t read it then that’s that, but I hope you’ll stick it through. I stuck it through writing it, in hopes that it would finish my healing process. I hope that maybe it will help you heal also.

There was something different about you. Something that struck me the moment you walked through the door the first time. It was almost a sense of Peace and Hope. Of course I’ve told you that before, it’s nothing I need to repeat. I finally felt that Fate had stopped dragging its feet the first time our eyes met.

You lingered in my mind. I’d see you at the darkest moments of the days that followed that initial encounter. On days when I felt I couldn’t continue you’d find your way, unknowingly to me, and bring back that Peace and Hope. The time there was the wreck in front of the store, I was having a horrible day, it was a horrible reason for you to be there, but there you were standing at the register. I didn’t smile on the outside, but I did on the inside wishing you’d linger a little longer. I passed you on your motorcycle the day I wanted to run away. You stopped into the store the night I realized just how miserable I really was. Then there was the night at the bar, you don’t know why I was already drunk at eight in the evening, but you were there and you made it better. Remember the challenge? I still think you should have taken me up, maybe I would have shot better in the dark and drunk.

While I struggled with myself and my happiness you were there. You said some pretty great things; you appeared to be the man I’d been wishing for. So I took the chance, even though something you said bothered me, "That may be your only chance at Happiness. I don't want to be the man who takes that away from you." It bothered me, it was almost a forewarning.

Through out our short relationship you were my rock in the storm. My world crashed and burned rather violently in the short time we were together. But you always brought me Peace and Hope. The first time I kissed you I knew everything was going to be okay. If I could have seen I’d be mending my heart in a few short months, well I would have loved you anyway.

The other afternoon I stood at the dog park watching my dogs play when I heard the familiar sound of your motorcycle. You were probably a couple of streets away, but it brought back the first time I ever rode a bike, that bike. That’s the memory that hurts the most. Because I will always remember that, every time I swing over my bike and start it, I’ll think of you. Everytime I see a Road King I'll be brought back to the brick streets of this town. To your hand on my knee.

Yesterday I laid in bed, restless because of my family. Suddenly I pictured the first night we spent together. How I didn’t want to sleep, how we smiled at each other all night. You kept winking and I noticed just how wonderful that smile of yours really is. I remember two specific things said that night. I asked if you’d always be this cuddly, you said “always”. I don’t remember what I said but I remember you saying, “I’ll always be there with you, you’ll never be lonely.”

I had a couple of simple wishes. I wished you were right there with me the first time I shot a deer. I wanted you to be in that picture smiling proudly, maybe kissing me on the cheek. I wished you could have gone to Alaska with me, again smiling proudly in the pictures, maybe with your own trophy. I wanted you to be waiting in the recovery room after my knee surgery. I wished you could have taught me how to ride my motorcycle, gone to Sturgis like I had hoped. But the only thing I ever really, honestly wanted, even more then a diamond ring, was for you to never stop loving me...

In the end I can’t honestly change anything. I can only wish and I'm pretty tired of wishing. You know what they say wish in one hand and well you know the rest. Every morning when I get up to run the stars are still out. The Archer is there waiting for me, I always say, “bring him back and it’ll change.” But I know he can’t. I honestly know that you probably never want to come back. I've let go of the Hope.

I’m sorry. I’m mostly sorry that you felt like I was lying to you. I’m very sorry it turned out the way it did. But I suppose neither one of us could have stopped it from happening. Like I said I would have loved you anyway. As a matter of fact I still love you, I always will. For the man you have been, the man you will be. I wouldn’t change anything.

I hope that you become the man you want to be, not the man other people think you should be. I hope that you grow in Grace and Love. But mostly I hope that somewhere along the way you find inner Peace.

Thanks for everything, best of luck.
One very last wish, I wish I was still your dream girl.
Love ya babe. Forever and Always.
Becki Ann

Let the healing finsih now.