I've been wanting to write this letter for a little while now, and I never knew when the right time would be. God has shown me that somehow, against my better judgement, but His is always greater than mine, that it is time. I'm not for sure how this will go, how it will even begin or how it will end. All I know is that the time is now to write to a city that I thought was my dream come true, but turned out to be a nightmare instead. I hope somehow, you can relate or understand this article. Maybe there is something you feel you need to do, and this will help you go in that direction to get peace with that situation.

Dear Franklin,

I'm writing you this letter because of all I thought you were. I thought you were the better half of Nashville, and were safer for someone like me. I dreamed about knowing you, dreamed about the places I wish I could go, and dreamed of the people I would meet. You seemed magical to me, like Christmas for a kid. I thought I had everything, and all I was left with was a blank piece of paper that I can't put actual words on. You know how you try to write really good content, and you spend the time you could be writing highlighting instead? That's what you are to me now.

You are a blank piece of paper that I keep highlighting. You are the words I can't write anymore, because of the nightmare you created. Elsa can't even unfreeze my heart for you. Where the light once surpassed the darkness, it cannot anymore. I am not sure how my mind is coping with all this sound going on. I'm not for sure how I can trust my dreams anymore. I'm not sure Christmas could be more magical, but have you seen yourself during Christmas? You're like a Hallmark movie, but only on the mystery Hallmark channel.

Thank you for being my dream for so long, only to have it wiped away from one huge nightmare. Thank you for all the good memories I will forever take with me. Thank you for keeping me steady for so long only to leave me quite unsteady in the end. I hope you are done with the nightmare... because it's a long way down, and I'm already at the bottom.

It's too late to turn around, Franklin. I won't forget where I belong, but you can't keep stealing me through the dark anymore. We will always have history.

Thanks for listening,

Your Friend From The States.