A love letter.

So,

It seems like this is the first note that I’ve written to you in a very long time. Unfortunately, this statement is far too accurate. It reflects a lack of desire, an abundance of fear, and a plethora of excuses. Now, I’m not about to say that I’ve changed, and lo and behold, I’m moving on to something new… Rather, I mean to say that I’m sorry for not treating you to such little love notes. And, I’m sorry for not giving you the time of mind that you deserve to receive.

But, on with the note! So, what to say? It seems like everything’s been said before. That’s kind of discouraging. Well, although it may have been said, the message still rings true.

Rebekah, I love you. Although I desire such terrible things (sex, lust, and other sinful activities), I desire to be wed with you more. You see, when I violate this bond of trust between us, I always feel guilty. Guilty, that is, for he children that we will one day have. They’ll have to live with an abundantly sinful father. Just as much, however, I feel guilty for you. You sit there, you wait for me every weekend, and yet, my affections could be at any random place, at any random moment. That is to say, it’s apparent that my commitment to you des not always seem visible, especially when I’m late for things, and plan things that interfere with our own.

On the outside, I may seem like a many of many lives, but I yearn for just one. I yearn for that life spent glorifying my father. Well, I also yearn for that physical life spent with one woman, I guess… I jest, but I do long for you. I love your embrace. I love your care, and affection. I love your servitude (not slavery, hehe). I love your devotion.

Though I fail in my obligations to you. Though I go astray often. Though I may rightfully be accused of thoughtfulness, you still stand with me. For that, I am so grateful. I’m sure that there are millions of men out there who would love a friend/girlfriend/courter like you in their life. I’m kind of glad that I claimed you when I did. J

I love you, Rebekah, and I don’t want to be with any other woman. I love your commitment, and your friendship. I’m sorry for the terrible things that I do to violate those things. Things like pornography, lust, anger, and deceit. They manifest themselves in a variety of different forms; that is, I’m guilty on many, many accounts.

I’ve so enjoyed these last few (uh, seventeen?) months with you. I’ve enjoyed our adventures, our hardships, and our joys.

Mind if we have more?