Dear Wynter,

    It's been a long while hasn't it? Two and a half years now. How time flies.

    I'll be honest with you: I'm not entirely sure why I'm here. I started writing this letter to myself in the shower, wanting to put it down somewhere afterward, but I've already forgotten the words. We were never really good with words, were we?

    It was weird, glancing through the old posts, seeing the person you used to be, compared to who you are now. Not much has really changed. You're still forgetful, still have problems keeping projects going outside that initial idea phase, still trying to figure shit out on your own. We're still with Lj, although, that may be changing again; all the old problems are still there, I think. Maybe this time when I quit, we'll quit for good. But that's not really a decision I want to think about right now.

    We still never figured out how to tell other people that you can feel the distance between you and them. That no matter how hard you try, there is still always going to be a glass wall between you and them. Not just a glass wall. A glass box. And I'm starting to think that it's around me, with how suffocating it can get to try and try and try and try to reach out to other people, to join in on their lives and conversations and be a part of something other than myself...only to find that invisible barrier there every time. I'm starting to realize that I don't really care if it's keeping me locked inside. We're still better at being alone, no matter how much it hurts.

    Other things have changed though. I think we found ourselves for a little while. It was about a year ago I think? I dunno, 2020 was the year of the pandemic where everything went to hell and it feels like 2 years in one. But I think it was 2020 when you joined ACE. That was the happiest six months of your life. You finally found something you enjoyed doing - even though it was tough, even though there were days you wanted to give up and die in the Grand Canyon, you were happy. You felt so free. 

    You gave it up to be with Lj. You wanted so badly to keep them, to be loved and to try to love someone in return. I think you wanted to be the person that didn't leave them or hurt them. Even though you had kept them at arms length for so long. Even though you realized that you didn't love them the way you needed to love them for it to work.

    And now you're in Texas. You live with them, Sammi, and Jacob. There's still a pandemic. You worked at Starbucks for seven months and now I work at a local coffee shop. I think for a while we wanted to try that cafe idea. We thought that it was something you enjoyed, and at the end of the day, it isn't terrible. But you still come home exhausted, feeling like you haven't accomplished anything. Too tired to do anything fun because you need to go to sleep for the next shift, waiting until the weekend to get here so you can sit around all day and do nothing. I'm starting to realize that it's not the life I wanted.

    There's a lot of things I think I'm starting to realize.

    On a less depressing note - we're pagan now. sort of, at least. We still believe in God, and I guess because the southern baptist is so ingrained into your body that you don't want to give them up. We never can give things up, can we? But we also worship Persephone. Want to, more like it. We have an altar, we have tarot cards, sometimes we leave offerings and try to participate in Sabbats. It's not the best - you were never good at orthopraxy. Still aren't. It's hard to keep at something every day, to pray and speak with gods you only half believe in, if only to bring you the comfort you can't find in other people. I guess that's part of the reason why I'm here right now. I want to so desperately understand, to connect. This is sort of shadow work for me - trying to understand why I feel certain ways, to work through the pain and sorrow so that I can move forward. 

    It's going to hurt a lot. I'm going to have to face things that I try to push down so I don't have to face them. My thoughts, my feelings, my desires. All of the things we were taught to ignore, no matter how indirectly we learned. I don't want to do it. Because it's not just me it's going to hurt. It's not just you. It's our friends and our family and most of all it's going to hurt Lj. Because once again we are going to leave them. We are going to get back to the person we found out in Arizona, we are going to be happy again. Even if it means we're going to be leaving everything behind again.

    That's the hope, at least.