Dear B&B,
I'm writing this letter to both of you because neither of you could have caused me the trouble you did without the other's help. B, I've known nearly as long as I can remember. When I was a kid, you were cool. You were a leader. You got to do all of the things I thought I wanted to do. As I grew up, I realized that I didn't want to be just like you (you were nerdy), but I still respected and liked you. You were an installment piece to my summers. You had cute brothers.
One day, as a pleasant surprise, be became a youth leader at my parent's church. My dad was one of your biggest fans. I was cool with you being there, heck, even as a nerd, you were still under 30 and the youth group needed that. You were gone for a few weeks and came back with B. No one had really known you'd been engaged, but we were happy for you. She was quiet. I didn't know what to think of her. They said she was an artist, too. People thought this was a great opportunity for someone to relate to the high school me.
Hi, other B, I'll be talking to you too now.
We got close. I almost liked going to church. B, you never became un-quiet, but I worked with it. I felt cared for. I didn't have to be forced to go to church events because I knew you tried to make me feel welcome, even though I didn't really care for the other teens. I hit a high point in my religious journey, if you will, under your guidance. I began dating a guy that you'd been mentoring. People thought that maybe I'd turn out alright after all.
What you didn't know was that I corrupt the boys I date. Not intentionally, of course. I don't go into a relationship with the malicious intent of ruining their moral convictions. My body does it for me, I guess. I got tired of him. You didn't know that I also get tired of them, did you? I think a lot of people, including him, thought that it was meant to be. I didn't. I got tired of all of his self-righteousness and his Bible thumping. I got tired of letting a Hobbit touch me. You didn't know he did that. Not until he told you anyways. Of course, it was my fault, even though I was the one who broke it off. In his heartbrokenness, he turned to you. It was understandable, really. I was the first girl who'd given him the time of day. I came out of his grief looking like the bad guy. I heard your counsel in every word he spoke to me, and he spoke to me more than I'd have liked. He couldn't accept that it was over. Did you do this?
When I got sick of his harassing, you told me I was unkind and far from God. That, B&B, is not for you to judge. You singled me out. You didn't hear my side of the story. You coddled him when you should've known he had enough of that. I wanted far less to do with God after your example betrayed me. It's been a long journey back to finding my faith. It doesn't look like it used to, but I like it better.
I now know that it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for. Thanks. What is that part in the Bible about being wary of wolves in sheep's clothing? I bet they had you and all those false prophets in mind when they wrote that.
Sincerly,
The Redhead.
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