Category Archives: Letters

For you, because I’m trying to love you

For you, because I’m trying to love you.

Hey you.
I know things are tough. Especially right now. Maybe they’ve always been tough. But right now it’s too much. You feel somewhat neglected and lonely at home. Don’t deny it. You told me that. You feel disappointed in yourself, maybe even in God, for the things you’ve had to face in life and how you have dealt with them. Don’t deny it. Its natural. You feel desperate for someone to take care of you and hold you accountable. Don’t deny it. You need me.

But you keep all of these feelings hidden behind one word:

You say you’re apathetic. You don’t care. You don’t feel much. That’s why you need drugs or alcohol to artificially force you to be happy, to feel… if only for an hour or two.

Well I can tell you how to be happier. I can show you what happiness truly is. Because I promise to put all my energy into this, to help you overcome all the feelings pent up inside. And when I promise things, I keep the promise no matter what. Even if it seems impossible.

So here I am. Promising you that I’ll be here always, make the choice to bring you dinner, fresh baked desserts, good mornings and good nights, calm phone calls when your angry or upset, God’s word when you’re feeling lost, arms open when you need comfort, love because you need it.

I can’t fix your home life. I can’t keep you company all the time. I can’t be by your side whispering in your ear when your about to make every choice of the day… I can’t change the past. But I can change the future. I believe you can change your future.

I promise to try to love you, better than I have in the past. And if I fail, I get back up and keep trying. A promise is a promise. I will never give up on you.


For you, because I love you

I was in your shoes. Well, maybe not the same pair. But the same brand. I went through this, but not the way you are. I mean, with my situation, I spent a great deal of time trying to put myself in his shoes. What did he feel like? He broke my heart, but didn’t he break his just the same? I have a feeling you’re going through the same things he went through, which were the same things I went through, but essentially thousands of times worse. He had the guilt, the question lingering in his mind for months, “Did I do the right thing? Was this a mistake?” And I wonder sometimes if those same questions still linger. I know these questions will constantly distract your mind from what might be more important in the long run, but it’s important to give yourself a little time to ponder.

I know how you feel. Depressed. Maybe not quite. Sad, at least a little. Sometimes being the one to make the decision can be harder. In fact, its always the harder place to be. I want to let you know that it really does end up okay. In the end, maybe a year, maybe two, maybe three, (yes, it could take that long) from now, you will look back and smile. Right now, that’s where I am. I look back upon the experience, the memories that endlessly appear before my eyes, and I smile. “Don’t cry because its over, Smile because it happened.” This cliche is something worth living by. I mean that. It may take a while to get there, but you will. I will be there for you the whole time. I mean that.

Maybe I’ll write you letters. Maybe I’ll send you smiles. Maybe I’ll draw you pictures. Maybe I’ll hold you in my arms. Maybe you can cry in my arms. Maybe not. But I’ll be there. I’ll do that. I’ll do anything. I’ll do everything.

You need me, whether you think you do or not

Dear me, (a letter written to me, by a future me)

I’m sitting on my laptop in my new apartment, with my husband, just checking my email and paying the bills. All the sudden, I hear a PING! The familiar sound of a notification coming from one social networking cite or another. But.. it isn’t some old friend commenting on my new marriage status on Facebook: “Oh, Karin! You two are so sweet together! I’m so happy for you! Sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding!” Yeah, I get it, you’re too busy or too timid to live life anywhere other than behind a computer screen. But that’s ok. I’ll take it ūüôā Well, I think to myself, It couldn’t be my email… I just checked it. It can’t possibly be Twitter… I stopped tweeting back in high school when I realized my thoughts weren’t really that share-worthy after all… WAIT! My thoughts… I swear I remember writing out my thoughts in way more characters than a tweet could ever hold….I turn to my husband,¬†“Sweetheart, I have a confession. I wrote a blog when I was in high school. I mean, all my friends had one, so I made one too. I’ve changed, and this isn’t really me anymore…it’s actually kind of embarrassing.” My sweet, loving, understanding husband proceeds to say, “Aw, honey, don’t worry, I won’t judge you. We were all stupid high school kids once.” I smile. And then I type in that unforgettable web address, Karingirl. The embarrassing email my parents created for me as a child, which I soon grew fond of. After all, I’m Karin, and I’m a girl. Where’s the shame in that? It’s much more creative than the email I created for myself, keforstho. What is that? Pieces and parts of my name? I come to the realization that maybe my parents deserve more recognition than I offer. Anyway, I type in that web address, and low and behold, the little notification star in the corner starts blinking orange. How could this be? I haven’t even touched this blog in years, and my friends haven’t seemed to be using theirs either… the blog connections sort of died out a while ago. So who commented on my blog? Slowly but surely, I move the mouse over to that eager notification, and click it…

It turns out, it’s just one of those¬†anticlimactic “Andy237smiles likes your post “Lame Confessions” Awkward. Of all posts, this random blogger who I have never met now knows my personal secrets. And even worse, I just shared with my husband a¬†plethora¬†of my awkward high school thoughts, this being my biggest confession yet. Oh, the irony. Thanks for shoving it in my face, Andy237smiles. Good thing you have 237 of them, because I’m sure as heck not smiling.

My life momentarily caves in. But not really. I’m just dramatic in that way. (and even now that I’m grown up and married, I still am. I hate to break it to you, past me.) But I do get a little upset, thinking to myself,¬†Why did I write all of this down? Random people know about me! This crap is forever documented! My friends probably didn’t even care that much. What was my purpose? Wait… what if my husband actually found out about me through my blog?¬† Soooo many nerve racking questions come into my brain. I begin over thinking it. Thinking maybe the man I am now in love with actually pursued me on my blog before he ever had the guts to in real life. Awkward. Awkward. AWKWARD. Life, at this point, could not be anymore awkward.

Eventually, I let it go. I realize I’m happy. I have landed a solid life, with a best friend who cares about me more than anything right by my side. The awkwardness is in the past. There is nothing to question. Life is what it is. And how I got here, I do not know. But what does it matter?

Dear future me,

I laugh at your story, because it is exactly what I fantasize my life being like when I’m you, hopefully sooner than later. I realize this revelation of my stupidity will someday happen. But for now, I love writing. And blogging is just what I’ll do. It’s momentary satisfaction, and this hasty satisfaction is typically frowned upon. But blogging is pretty harmless, right? I mean, even the consequences you have told me about aren’t all to bad. If blogging like this gets me a great husband, heck, I’ll take him! Haha. That was a joke. And a momentary regret is something I’m willing to sacrifice, because blogging is just way too fun. Thanks for the heads up.

Love, me.