Dear Mr. Perfect,

Perfect. That’s what I thought you were. From the first time I met you I thought you were the man I had prayed for since I was 11 years old. You loved God, you were smart, and I thought you could see me. And by see me, I mean see me for who I truly was. I thought you appreciated me. I was light. No matter the circumstance I was like a light. Always smiling, always laughing, always in 100 percent. I thought you appreciated me. I really thought you might be the one God had saved especially for me.

But you weren’t. Nobody is perfect. We all try to be perfect, but none of us is. We all have things we hide. We all have things we don't give the world the privilege to see. Yours was darkness. I’m not talking about evil darkness. I’m talking about the type of darkness that accompanies a summer thunderstorm. Beautiful, but all encompassing. You were the dark clouds. I was the lightning that cut straight through them. We were the perfect storm, you and I.

I don’t know if I am allowed to say "we," because we were never actually a “we.” We were best friends, almost too much alike, except for one thing. I was light and you were dark. At first I didn’t mind the darkness, the mystery about you. I actually found it quite intriguing. We could talk about God and marriage and just life in general, and it felt like you could read my mind. We were almost exactly alike, but you always had a different spin on things, a darker spin. Yours was sometimes a more realistic spin on life that seemed to balance out my optimistic attitude. That was something I loved about you. You could practically read my mind. You balanced me out. You saw things the way I saw them, not all black and white but in different shades of color, but at the same time you saw them differently. Nothing was clear, but that’s what made life so beautiful. The fact the human body can be made up of billions of cells that all work together to keep you alive. You found that beautiful. You made me see things in ways I never thought possible. You forced me to grow, you forced me to trust, you forced me to rely on others sometimes. This force changed me for the better. You always had my back, even when I was falling apart you were always there to pick up the pieces. You were my best friend.

Maybe I was wrong for wanting more. Maybe I should have never allowed myself to see the possibility of being more than friends. Maybe I should have let the clouds churn for longer before being the lightning that cut through them. Maybe that’s what ruined everything. Or maybe it was the difference between darkness and light. Sometimes I wonder if you found me hard to handle because I could see right through you, just like that lightning cutting through the clouds. Maybe it was because you felt you had to be real around me because I cut right through you, like light cuts through darkness. Maybe I made you think to hard or maybe you couldn’t handle my imperfections, or maybe you couldn’t handle my light. I will never know that answer, and that is okay. It's okay because I came to realize that we were not the storm, I was the storm and you were the bystander.

There is a reason I am fascinated by thunderstorms. They are beautiful to me. They are either nothing, or everything at once. There is a beauty that accompanies a storm. The quiet before, the chaos within, and the rainbow after. I've come to realize I relate a lot with thunderstorms. I am filled with darkness and light, and when the Holy Spirit stirs up what is inside of me I cannot be stopped. I am strong and powerful and a force of nature. Therefore I need calm. I need a balance of darkness and light. I need someone who is a storm also, but won't overtake me. I need someone who love's storms too, because I am the storm. I am the beautiful chaos. It takes someone special to see my beauty.

I don’t have to know why things didn't work out. We don’t have to know why something that seemed so perfect could explode. Maybe there was too much fire between us. Too much passion for life and too may opinions. Darkness is never a bad thing. Darkness is something that can balance things. So don’t think your darkness is a bad thing, it looks beautiful on you. It is what makes you who you are, but your darkness just didn’t fit with my light. People may think opposites attract, but what a person really needs is balance, and that’s something we didn’t have, and that’s okay. I didn't need to be saved. You didn't have to save me. You just needed to sit back and appreciate the storm, dance in the rain. You didn't need to try to change it, but I understand why you would think I needed saving from the storm.

I’m glad it didn’t work out. I’m glad we didn’t date. Our “almost” has taught me more about myself than I ever thought possible. It’s taught me to be happy with my stage in life. It's taught me to embrace the storm. It has taught me to be happy in my singleness. It has taught me that sometimes good things don’t work out so that God can bring you even better things. I just wish I could have my best friend back. I wish you hadn't tried to save me. I wish I hadn't tried to save you. But it is okay. I hope that life brings you amazing things and I pray for your happiness daily. You are a fantastic human being and even though I got hurt in the process, I hope you have found the happiness you seek. I say that with all the love in my heart. Thank you for the memories and thank you for showing me that I am the storm

Love you,

Faith