My enemy, I love you.

Dear Enemy.

In order for me to write this I must place a mirror at my desk. I struggle with what I see when not gazing at my reflection for reasons of pure shallow vanity. What I see when I look at you is a monster. I see the monster that has destroyed my world. I see a demon clothed in a womans body. I see me.

I want to destroy you. To bring you to your knees so that you may plead for absolution for the crimes you have committed against me. I loathe you and yet, I love you.

Just as much as you have demolished me you have breathed life and love into those dearest to my heart. You have placed yourself within harms path for them countless times and for this I thank you. I wish that I could say these things to you, face to mirror, but I am too stubborn.

I love you for caring for those less fortunate. Giving when you had nothing left to give. Because of this, my love for you is profound. It was not for the glory or the gloat. You did not do so to be placed on a feed on the Internet or to lord it over another person. How many people do you think you have fed? The ones that had no food. The ones that had not a decent pair of shoes that now walk within the shoes you provided. Shoe’s taken from your closet or backseat of car. Shoes that, like the clothing you also gave, you wish for today because they were your favorite.

If you think that no one saw you each time you ordered an extra meal at the local diner, a meal better then the one you ordered for me only to take it a block over and set it beside a person sleeping one the street.

I saw you.

I also heard you murmur quietly. Not wanting to disrupt a possible dream, but wanting them to have their meal while it was still hot and fresh, that dinner was on you.

I heard you.

I could smell the food and I could see your eyes begin to brim with tears. I could see that if you could, you would gladly feed them for a lifetime, care for them like your own.

How could you have hurt me so badly? How could you, a woman of such compassion do so much damage to me that I be left a twisted ball of pain and confusion? Why, my love, must you torment me.

With all the hate that fills my heart when I look at my reflection of you, I cannot deny that there is unwavering love for you just below the surface.

I hope someday that you could love me as much as you do those around you. That you could cover me with the wings of your protection and fierce determination to see that they are safe. That someday I may feel the power of your protection and fierceness of your devotion. That someday I can look out from behind the protection of you and see the fear within the eyes of those that dare to harm me. I hope someday you will protect me to the end like you have for the ones that need you.

If that should never come to be then I will still have love for you. I will love you for the times that you went hungry so that my children could eat. For the times that you would wear no coat so that they may have the finest. For the moment when you showed the greatest strength, desperately trying to push life back into their father. Never faltering. Pushing his chest then breathing into his lungs.

I will always hate you for not saving him, but I will always love you for trying your hardest. For keeping the composure necessary so as not to awaken my beautiful little boys to the sight of their mother struggling to bring life back into their father.

Nobody knows you as well as I do. I have watched you be left out in the cold. Abandoned and thrown to the wolves by the ones meant to see you safe. I watched as you yourself, became a wolf. I have been with you from the moment of your birth. I sat with you as you slept, only a child, in the snow with no shoes. Is that why you give of them so freely?

I have watched as you traded your means of protecting me so that you could feed my unworthy body. I have seen you support those around you so that they may meet their greatest potential, yet you have let me flounder in the failures of the world.

I turn my attention back to the mirror on my desk. I love you for the these things you have done, but I hate you, and you are my enemy for not having done them for me.

My enemy, I love you.

ME.