Dear Casey,

 

You said you loved me

And I left you

Because I couldn't do it.

I couldn't do it...

 

You're 24 with a kid,

You smoke weed,

I met you online,

I knew you for two weeks.

 

But I've never known someone 

More respectful,

More loving,

More open,

More humble.

 

And I hurt you.

Making a 6'4 man cry is not a light task,

And I bear this burden alone.

Only two people know.

 

But it was so unrealistic,

So unorthodox,

Something just didn't feel right,

So I told you, "Not now. Not yet."

 

I had to. I had to...

Everything moved so fast, too fast.

And I'm too young.

Maybe in a couple years we'll be brought together again.

 

Now, whenever I see a tall man with a beard,

My heart races and my skin prickles

And my throat closes and my hands shake 

And there's no one I can turn to!

 

No one who understands,

No one who I can tell

Except the two I've never touched.

It's times like these

I regret stopping therapy.

 

But I miss you.

If only you were younger.

If only you lived here.

If only you still went to church.

If only!

 

If only you weren't homeless at 17?

If only you didn't have a drug addicted mom?

If only you still knew your dad.

If only you weren't a father yourself.

 

But then what would you be?

You wouldn't be you anymore.

Take away all the pain and suffereing

And, yeah, you'd be better off.

You wouldn't have struggled with addiction.

You would be a Christian.

You wouldn't be a father.

You wouldn't deal with depression.

 

But then...

You wouldn't be as respectful,

Wouldn't be as loving,

Wouldn't be as open,

Wouldn't be as humble,

Wouldn't be the man I fell in love with.