Dear You,

I miss you sometimes. I miss the way your hair would bounce when you laughed. I miss being the one to make you laugh. I miss looking up at you and hearing you knock on my door. I miss talking about the things that only you and I talked about. I miss the butterflies and sweaty palms and the late night texts. I miss the smell of laundry detergent on your clothes. I miss all of these things, but in the worlds of "Little Big Town" [and ultimately, my girl Taylor], I wish you were a better man.

You came into my life at a time when I thought I would be meeting my future husband. You were [are] handsome and funny, and you made me feel...but that's not true... You didn't make me feel like I'd never felt before. The feeling was good and fun, but it wasn't unique from any other guy I'd liked before you. You gave me butterflies, but so had every other guy. You were charming and devoted. You love Jesus and wanted what He wanted for you. You looked at me. You were right, until right wasn't enough.

Since middle school, I'd always imagined that when I got to college, everything that I had been waiting for would fall into place. I would find the perfect friend group of fellow believers and one of those friends would surely become my future husband. We would do International Missions together over summer break and spend our Christmases in China and all of my insecurities would be met and corrected by you. You would just be a better man, you would be the BEST! How wrong I was.

I always thought that it was silly when people used timing as an excuse for why a relationship didn't work out. My thought process was, If you really love each other, nothing matters - especially not timing. I was wrong about this too. See, when I met you, you weren't right, BUT NEITHER WAS I! For so long I've blamed our lack of a relationship on you. On your childishness. On you inability to work out your problems for yourself. Your lack of spiritual, or financial leadership. Your inability to break free from you draining family. I blamed you.

What I couldn't do is blame myself. I couldn't blame my sin. My inability to rid myself of leeching friendships. My wandering from God. My need for control. My insecurities. My faults. If I had taken the time to understand these things about myself, I'd like to say that it would have worked out, but it wouldn't have.

I wouldn't have worked because I'm still me and you're still you. I still need the warrior, and you still need the lamb. You're not strong enough [wow, that sounds harsh] and I'm not the type to willingly submit.

See, The Lord made you for someone else. How painful that sentence is...How long it took me to even admit that to myself... You were not created for me. And I was not created for you. And even though you are a good, god-fearing man, you are not my man. I wanted you to be and there are parts of me that would still want that if I saw you today. If you laughed at one of my sarcastic jokes. If you told me again about your dreams and where you see God directing. I would want you to be that man.

I hope that The Lord allows your dreams to happen and so much more. I hope that you continue to seek after him. I hope He makes you the BEST man- not for my sake or anyone else, but for Him. And yes, I hope that you find your better woman, even though she's not me.

-A