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You make the world go ’round

Dear patient love giver,

I often wonder why it is you wake up beside me each morning in our life and not in someone else’s. God knows there is a better (easier?) place that you could be.

The reality is I’m selfish, inconsiderate, stubborn and short tempered. I’m insecure, scared, and often too much of pansy to jump into the adventures I’ve dreamt for us so many times. You could have (maybe should have) left for someone who was already living the adventure.

You patiently wait.

And not passively either. You work your ass off to keep things in order, raise our kids and push me to be better and bolder, even though I often disregard your encouragement and building up as an obligation.

You stay.

You don’t have to, but you do. Maybe it’s because you know something that I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you know that this thing that I call a “wasted life” is where the real adventure is being lived. Maybe it’s because you know that once I wake up and help live the adventure you’re already living, things will be infinitely better than they ever could be with some other schmuck.

Maybe it’s because you know that if you left I would be devastated, again putting me above yourself.

I don’t deserve you. But you are here. I just pray that when I awake tomorrow you will still be there beside me, anxiously waiting to see if I will start to live the adventure that you’ve already created.

I pray to god I will. I will sure as hell try my best.

I love you.

Today’s letter was written by Anonymous Twitter: Blog: Written From: Canada
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“We are a broken people…”

Today’s letter was contributed by Rachel, an extroverted twenty-something writer, reader, learner, and dreamer surviving off coffee and deep conversations. She believes in early mornings, live music, road trips, and finding the good. Follow her thoughts on Twitter at @_rachchristine and her writings at www.sincerelyrachelchristine.com: To the drug-addicted brother from the sister who cannot save you: I just want you to be okay. I heard somewhere that big sisters are supposed to help quench the thirsty dreams of their younger siblings. I’m sorry that I did not do that for you. It’s crazy to be a witness to the erosion of your spirit that’s taken place over the last few years. It’s hard to watch someone so close to my heart become the personification of statistics, symptoms, and stories. It’s safe to say that a drug addict is everything they say he will be; a liar, a thief, and a desperate shadow of a person. You still have a spark every once in awhile, but I sometimes wonder what the size of the flame would be, had heroin not decided to try and squelch it. Would you be a businessman? A drummer? A teacher? Some days I slide down to the floor and cry achingly and I press my palms into my eyes, wishing away reality. It’s like I’m homesick for what used to be, for who you used to be. I want to laugh with the young boy who wore fake glasses in his school picture because he knew “class clown” was in his birthright. I want to joke around with the teenager who will still play Nintendo 64 with me, and won’t laugh when I lose every time. I long for your eyes to see the world through sobriety, through actuality, through redemption. Because the world is an incredibly beautiful place that is desperate for the spark of humanity to come alive. I long for your arms to be pink once more, with signs of life instead of death, signs of healing instead of affliction. I long to know why this is your story – but I don’t know that any of us ever will. It is no less beautiful, and you are no less worthy of hope than any of us. We are a broken people, each of us. You are not alone in this, you are never alone. The fullness of love is attainable; you just have to look for it. I love you. Sincerely, Rachel Christine
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Would You Cross the Street?

Dear Good Samaritan, Pretty cool to hear that you picked up a random teenager with bloody hands after he bailed skateboarding and gave him a ride home. You put yourself in his shoes and though of what was best for him. I wonder how many people would've crossed to the other side of the street (so to speak)? Pretty sure my hand is raised
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Dear Girl With Only One Favorite (Contributed by Max)

Today’s letter contributed by the always inspiring Max Dubinsky (@MaxDubinsky).

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Two Bodies, One Heart

Dear Devastated Parents, I can't imagine what it would be like to find out that your are carrying two babies that share the same heart, knowing that they both cannot live. A mutual friend told me your story and it seems so unfair and contradictory to what we as humans actually experience. I don't think we can actually live WITHOUT sharing our heart with someone else. Maybe that's what your babies were made for; to connect your hearts in a way you never imagined.  -Dave
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Truth Speaking Artist

Dear Truth Speaking Artist, Thanks for saying what most religious fundamentalists are actually thinking. It's a reality check that is much needed yet rarely received. The truth of your simple words, although they hit me like a slap in the face hits a jackass, are a reminder to
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Obsessive Creator

Today’s letter goes out to Lauren Dubinsky (@laurendubinsky). She is talented, creative, and has huge heart for humanity. She’s downright brilliant! Dear Obsessive Creator, I'm not going to lie, yesterday was a pretty cynical day. I have those. Probably too often. On days like them I need people like you. People to help me see again that there are good things out there. That the world isn't just full of self indulgent idiots trying to get you to drink their brand of Kool-Aid. Your simple love for all things good and human is something I aspire to, and I hope other do too.  -Dave
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Love Is In The Air

Dear Elderly Couple, Seeign you walk hand in hand today gives me hope that love is not dead. It gives me hope for my future and the future of my family. It gives me hope that, in a world and culture with so much devastation and relational fallout, love can endure. Thank you for reminding me.  -Dave