John

Sometimes I ask God why I have this relentless desire to help you. Tonight I figured out why. I think it's because I see in you something in myself that wants to be helped the same way. That is why I cannot and will not stop thinking of ways to reach out to you and help you, even if you close doors. Even if you push me away. I will not stop, and I will not give up.

I see in your broken self the self that is I, as broken and as scarred as you are. I know how it feels and I feel what it's like to be in your place, to feel what you feel: pressured and wanting to just drop everything and rest. This is why you and I rest. We don't understand what people want of us--we try to--but we help anyway. I see that you love helping, and that is what draws me to you. From the bottom of my heart I say that I want to help you, even if it costs me. I feel indebted to you for no fault that is mine or good deed that is yours. You have placed yourself in a space where neither you nor I could leave, which neither you nor I could break in.

I do dream of you some nights. I remember some of them if not all. Thinking that I dream of you gives me courage and this drive to write: I cannot understand why--I've stopped writing for a long time, but it's back, thanks to these thoughts of you. Why of all people, you?

You make me write somehow. Tonight you gave me every reason to write again. Thank you for that. I still cannot understand what force this is that draws me to you indefinitely, but I like that you and I exist as one and the other. Thanks for you. Thanks for all that is you.