The truth is I wasn’t faithful or greatful for that matter. I let my heart pitterpatter for every thing attractive that wasn’t you. Neglected, dejected and abused I fell for every girl that showed me attention. But it was all because of my insecurities, I lost my purity when my lustful eyes met her luscious skin, and my wretched heart met it’s wretched sin.
I looked too much. I made up fantasies in my head about things I should know nothing about. Based on images I should have never seen. My heart was rotted out for years when everyone else thought I was clean. I am not perfect. But I’m better. Better than I use to be. But I’m still in the process of building a better me.
I’ve cheated on you for years now, and that’s why it brings up so many tears now. You’re the reason my body was crafted to be pure, yet my body has seen better days, and it’s left longing for a cure. I knew the world had nothing good to offer, yet I offered up my soul, and even though I tried to guard myself, I still gave it control.
I hate what I’ve become. Defiling women with my mind, while witnessing to them with my lips. Telling them that God loves their heart, but secretly I’m focused on their hips. I’m not worth a second glance, or a second chance for that matter. I’m worth less then the worth I placed on the ladies before you. It’s hard to stand here and admit it, but it’s the truth.
But it’s so hard to stay true, because we’re told it’s normal behavior. That lust is an animal instinct, we’re born with, and not a sin we fall in to. Like the sacrifice Christ made was purely coincidental, and that because we were born in to sin, we should just find our identity in it too. It’s pointless, just like the girls I’ve mistreated, when you’re the only girl I’ve ever needed.
Every broken heart has been worth it, and every hidden scar has been shown. And contrary to popular belief, I’m not perfect and I can’t do this on my own. I’m learning to treat women, the way Christ treats the church. With respect and love and integrity and putting them ahead of me. To treat them in a way, that I would want my daughters to be treated some day.
So future Mrs. Me, I hope you get this. Because my transformation from then to now has been intense. You have been worth the wait I’m sure, and you’re still worth waiting for.