“Forgive, forgive,” He says to me.

“Our paths lead differently.”

Perhaps our paths diverged a long time ago. Perhaps that’s why I feel so distant from you when we used to be so close. I miss you, but I feel we cannot understand each other the way we used to. My path has led through very dark valleys, full of things I never thought I’d have to face. I cannot make you understand.

I miss our travels together. I miss spending time with you. I miss having you there for me. You were not there for me. And even when I returned, you couldn’t understand. I couldn’t make you understand the darkness I’d passed through, and how it had changed me. I was like Frodo returning to the Shire after Mordor, and I was too changed to belong anymore in the place of my childhood.

I can’t make you understand how left behind you sometimes make me feel. I’m weak, and I’m sorry. I can’t keep up with you. But can’t you stay behind with me? I would do that for you if you were in my shoes.

I miss our times together. The last time we spent together was a trip across country, into the summer over the mountains. Mountains, and warm summer, and grasslands, and beauty. I miss that. I miss you.

I understand feeling like a nomad. But I wish you’d just spend time with me. I don’t know if you understand how much that means to me. I wish you’d just try. I wish I could communicate that to you.

I don’t think you’d understand my life now. I’d be the girl with her head in the clouds again. Or your shadow. I don’t want to be your shadow. I want to be your friend.

I don’t think you’ll understand. You didn’t before. I can’t live your life, and I’m not sure you understand that. I’m not you, I’m me. You can’t force your life on me. I tried living the way you suggested, and it just didn’t work. I’m not made the same way you are.

I’m dreamy; you’re down-to-earth.

I’m intuitive; you’re not.

I see the unseen; you don’t.

I’m physically weak; you are the one forging ahead.

I’m a graceful dancer; you’re not made the same way.

I could spend hours just thinking; you spend hours working.

I make my own decisions. And you make yours.

I wish I could let you into my world again. But I’m not ready yet. And you haven’t reached out. I’m not sure we understand each other the way we used to. And that’s lack of time spent with each other. Perhaps I am the one hiding. I don’t know. Perhaps I am hiding because I’m afraid of what you’ll say of me. I don’t know. Perhaps I am the one pulling away from you. But then again, perhaps there’s a reason for that.

Lord, help me forgive. And please heal, in Your timing.

Our paths have diverged.