October 27, 2003

Dear you-know,

I am not the person that I want to be. Instead of being the relaxed, comfortable, kind-to-all, grown-up, together, strong-in-faith, protector, provider, loving, funny man that I want to be, I am instead a child in a big, big world.

You have overwhelmed me with the details; before when things were simple I could get by on what I thought was my own: my own knowledge, my own smarts, my own luck, my own will. Now, the details are overwhelming. There are 401Ks, there are car payments, there are future plans outside of this weekend, there are other people depending on me, there are decisions that have consequences outside of a semester's time, there are so many things that can go wrong. And as I grown, I see the great wave of experience washing away the dirt from my sight and breaking down the rocks that have prevented me from letting go.

There is not a division of labor like I had always thought: there are not some things like buying groceries or dealing with details at work that are better left to me down here. There are not things like keeping a job or having food on the table that are better left to you. You are my friend first, and you care about all of it and help me with all that I need help in. The division is thus: you do it all, and I see it first-hand.

I love you.

October 27, 2003 12:17 PM