Before I left New York I stopped by the Target in White Plains. Remember how we used to always share our faith and have Bible Talks at the food court there? Or how you always got parking tickets? (Haha let's not talk about your collection of parking tickets). I picked a cute little card that had a pinky promise picture on the front and drafted numerous letters, both on paper and typed out. But no matter how many times I rewrote it...no matter how many times I reread each sentence more than ten times... it felt wrong. I myself didn't have a problem with what I wrote. In fact, I thought it felt right. But something in me, that wasn't me, was saying not to give you the card. And almost 2 years later I realized that it was the Holy Spirit...the spirit was unhappy with what I wrote. 

At first the card sounded like it was filled with love and seemed like I was trying to be a peacemaker. But really I was just trying to make myself feel better. My card to you was very selfish. I rationalized my faults and pointed out yours, it had lots of expectations for you to change but not really myself, and I ended it with sweet words that I didn't mean or kinda meant (I knew what to say but my heart didn't actually mean it). My card to you was very long because I listed hurts and pains from months before. It was a record of wrongs. And every time I mentioned my faults against you, I sugarcoated and said, "I didn't mean to hurt you" and "I had good intentions." It was essentially a card all about me being, or at least me trying to be "the good one." But truly, Emily, all I needed to write on that card instead of those 5 paragraphs were -