There are many sides to a story; this, I’ve known for a while now. But today, as I awake, groggy-eyed and in a light daze, I finally understand your side of the story.
The early part of summer, in 2015, was a summer I long to forget. My heart was shards of glass, and my mind was weak. Anyone who knew me could tell. I coped with the pleasures of the world: drink, gluttony, laziness, lust.
Of course, these sins did nothing to fill the hole in my distraught heart. Yet, like a fool, I did not cease, and dug the hole deeper and deeper. I was not myself; I was an impostor. Then. . .I met you.
When I first saw you, I was in awe of you: your tiny shoulders peering out of your shirt. Your green eyes like the universe. And your sincere smile showing your stunning heart. I was in love. . .but, I was also deep in pain.
You took a risk the day you opened up your world for me. A risk, to be honest, I did not deserve. Though, that’s one attribute I love about you: you will observe the worst in all creation—and see potential.
You saw the monstrous mask I wore, and you saw the good behind it. And, above all, you showed me the importance of trust and honesty. I will forever be grateful for that.