Yes, I do realize that today is September 18th, which is a full week after your birthday. I've spent some measure of nights trying to write you a lovely story to melt your heart. Why write a story in the first place? Well, you did once point out that I don't write much about you, and I stand by my reply: I don't have to, because you have become my artistic outlet. But, what can I get you on your birthday that no one else can? Words, a story that no one else can own; that's what I wanted to give to you. But at 4am it hit me that I don't need fiction to hold your attention; it's something you give freely to me, deserved or no.
And having your attention, I would like to write a few more words.
You are an exquisitely beautiful person, but that beauty is only beginning to bloom inside you. With every choice you make, that rose will either bloom faster or slower; and with enough choices that bloom could be put on hold. This, in some ways, was the single cause for me wanting to wait for a year to pass after graduation to marry you: I wanted to give you enough time to mature fully before I married you. The bloom is more enticing than the bud, I reasoned.
Why is that? Why should the bloom be the prize? If the bud is going to bloom into the flower, then what difference does it make. Is it not enough to watch the bud grow to maturity?
I must confess, I do not know. However, I do know this. Krager once asked me if I thought I was settling, or in as few words and as plainly as I can put it, choosing a second class girl because there wasn't a first class girl around. It has never once crossed my mind that I might be settling; I know I'm not. However, it sounds strange to say that, as you are now, you're exactly what I've always pictured in my mind. In truth, I don't believe you are yet. In short, I'm certain I have the right flower, but I know you haven't quite bloomed yet.
What does a Kaitlin flower look like? Should I tell you? What right does any person have to say, "This is how you should be." I find that terribly presumptuous. You've been through things I've never been able to wrap my head around, and there are some nights I'm afraid that I might one day understand them because they are so dark. But yet, strangely enough, I don't see scars or past cares or worries in your smile. If you carry baggage, it's completely forgotten in your happiness. You are who you are, Kaitlin. Thankfully, no one can live it for you. And I trust that you can make the right decisions to bloom properly. Until then, I will wait until graduation, when we finally wed.
I find myself overwhelmed by you now; I can't imagine how beautiful you will become (Truthfully, you are more beautiful day by day).
I love you, Kaitlin.
Rest well in Him.
Benjamin Knox Gathright
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