Kyle,
The more time we spend together, the more our life becomes the same life. Our words, at times, are like sniper bullets. We can so easily wound each other from three-hundred yards away, pummeling the part of the heart that is the most sacred and vulnerable. We can obliterate it with one intentional, spoken word. This is our marriage. This is our way of dealing with conflict. This is our habit; our reality. When we wound, we take our words and sharpen them into the points of arrows. "I will always love you" whispered moments before becomes a thing of the past. Yet we find ourselves in this pattern. I am sorry, Kyle. Sorry that I've learned and devised ways to wound you. Sorry that we escape to opposite ends of ourselves.
I am needing you. Then, I find you moving towards me; you're no longer on the opposite side of the house we're building our lives in. I am ready to make amends and be reminded of the vows me made over a year ago.
Love you always and forever,
Dana
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