Made of stone

You're amazing. You must be like this Greek god — beautiful and chiseled of stone.

I'm down on my knees again, begging for you to wake up, begging for you to take your rightful place and set things straight. I'm praying for you. I'm praying God changes your heart. I'm praying you restore what you've stolen, killed, and destroyed. Make things right. You're the right man for her. Only you can do this.

God knows my heart. It was — for a moment — full of contempt for you. It was jealous. It wanted the one you had. It wanted her to love me as she loves you. In short, it wanted the impossible.

I was wrong. I know that now, and I feel beyond punished for my mistake. I have sinned against you. I have sinned against your wife and children. I have sinned against God. My heart wanted your wife. My heart wanted to steal back what you stole from me many years ago. It sought to set something right that was never wrong. My stupid hands have fumbled with these pieces, and I have come to the conclusion that I can't make this right. As hard as I try, only you can do that.

All those years ago, when you picked her up from where she used to hang out with me, I bet you plotted the best way to make her yours. You knew if you got her to do "that thing" Lauryn Hill sang about, she'd be yours. You were right. She's still yours. She always will be. Even though you strangled the hell out of the trust she had for you, she still loves you and wishes you'd just come clean. All you have to do is take ownership of your problem and show her you want to work toward a solution. It can't be that hard. What woman is more worth it than her? She's yours to lose. She's hanging by a thread waiting for you. Her heart cries out for you even though you dragged it through the muck and mire, even though you pierced it through a thousand times, even though at this moment you do nothing to heal it.

You screwed up. You can make it right. Any day. At any time. Right now would be a good time. What's wrong with you? Why won't you do that? I'd tear my fucking heart out and put it in your chest if it would make you turn your ass around, make things right, and put your family back together. I want to scream at you! What is more important than that? What the fuck are you doing right now that is so important you can't do that?

Get down on your knees. Prostrate yourself. Grab her fucking ankles and cry. Moan. Bewail your evil ways. Make her know you know you screwed up, that you want to make it right. Tell her you'll do anything to make it right. Did you know why she always wanted you to say her name and not "baby?" She wanted to know you were thinking of only her. It's hard to think of a different woman and say your wife's name, isn't it? Say her name now. Say it and say it and say it. Say her name and tell her you are going to fix this. 

Don't you want to go back home? Don't you want to tuck your children in at night? You're missing out on their lives, and it's no one's fault but yours. My plea before God is you turn around right now and make this right. If I was in your way, I'm not now. If you want your family back, I'm positive you can do it. Every man knows what he's done. He knows how a problem took shape, and he knows how to solve it. The solution is in your hands. No one else can fix this. 

Her words have convinced me of your great worth. She's shown me my error. When God told me to love you, I repented of hating you. Why does He always tell me to love the last person in the world I want to love? I already prayed for you, but I then began to pray for you with urgency. Those pictures you took: I've seen her smile; I've almost heard her laugh. Those eyes beamed her love right into you. I don't know how anyone could take that kind of love for granted. Even after all you did, she loves you hard. You must carry the essence of a god, for you are a beautiful man made a little lower than the angels. For her, you were right up there with the angels. 

I am completely humbled. God has humbled me. She has humbled me. Her children have humbled me. You, sir, have humbled me. I've let go of anything I wanted from any of you except God. Only His words sustain me. All others slay me and turn me aside. I've meddled and now I've settled. I've rested after the great storm tore through me, upended me, broke me, and battered me. I will never stretch myself across the waves and seek what cannot be mine again. I will always shrink from what is offered to me. I will distrust even the most trustful.

You beat me. It couldn't be any more obvious. You beat me every day for the last 22-plus years. You're beating me at this moment. I admit it. I'm walking away from this. I'm okay with being beaten. Just let me walk off stage and into the rest of my life where I'll try to forget any of this happened. Especially the part where you one-upped me by doing nothing at all. How humbling is that? How soul-crushing is that? There's no way to compete with that. I threw everything I had at this, and it wasn't enough. And you just walked away. I can't even compete with the memory of you. That's how pathetic I am. You're a Greek god made of stone, and I'm a mere mortal. Just dust. 

You must be something else. I can't imagine another human being getting away with what you've done and having such love poured out for you. She's a mess without you. Her mother loves you, even though you fucked up her daughter beyond belief, even though she knew you abused her. You children mourn your departure. They love you more than any man who has ever existed. Even I wish you'd just go back the fuck home. Who are you? No wonder God had me pray for you. So many hearts hinge on you. My plea is that you understand that and take it to heart. My plea is that you find your way back home, you lost, lost man.