Hey.

I don't expect you to read this. The fact I'm writing this out surprises me too.

You see, I thought I was gonna be fine. I was gonna drift away on my own. I'd be changed and different and hopefully happy.

But now?

I wonder if I can ever really be happy anymore.

Let me rephrase: I don't know if I can fully achieve the inner aching that I only now can admit to having within me.

You see, I wanted to be a bright spot in the world. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to shed light where there was none. I searched and toiled and tried many things. I took my chances at trying work that adds to others' lives.

Yet, when I got home, I was nowhere near brighter. I was not any happier. I was not any more fulfilled. I felt only emptied, run dry. I felt like I was stumbling in the dark.

A teacher once explained "you feel blind because you're probably immersed in so much light," as though to say that my struggles were a natural part of giving of myself. It was a nice thought. I wanted to believe it so badly.

But I realize now: I burn bright when I have someone else who fuels me. Who gives me strength. Who gives me a reason to wake up in the morning, and a warm thought to ward away cold nights.

I also now know: never have I burned brightest than when I burned passionately for you.

I want us to be together. I want us to make this work. I want you to believe in this once more.

And if not? I'll just go. I'll find another. But I'll never burn as bright, and the world I know will be darker for it.