We find it difficult to communicate with each other, we are both shy, and I often withdraw from sarcasm, which is why I am writing this letter. I have something important to say. Remember last summer? I had a horrible rash on my hands and we were laying out the flowers on the altar in church one night in preparation for confirmation. Do you remember how bad I was then? My hands were bandaged, itchy so much that I couldn't sleep, the skin on my hands was so bad, the palms looked like a naked wound. We were busy with flowers like daisies and cornflowers. I was very neurotic at that time, I suddenly got angry at you and started a war with you, and asked you if you believed in the power, and you replied that you did. I asked you in a disgusting tone if you ever prayed for my hand, but you didn't. I dramatically asked you to pray on the spot, and oddly enough you agreed. Your obedience irritated me, I tore off the bandage, and here's what you must remember. Seeing those naked wounds shocked you, you couldn't pray, it made you sick. Later I got to know you gradually, but you never got to know me. After all, we lived together for a while, almost two years, and it was at least an asset in our barren relationship, our kisses, and clumsy attempts to escape the lack of true love between us. When the rash spread to my forehead and scalp, I quickly realized you were avoiding me. I disgusted you but you tried to share my feelings and then the rash spread to my hands and feet and our relationship ended. It was a blow to me and I had to face the reality that we didn't love each other. There is no need to hide this reality or turn a blind eye, Thomas, I have never embraced your beliefs, mainly because I have never experienced religious ordeal, no Christians in my family, full of warmth, unity and joy. The Lord and Jesus only exist as a vague concept. In my eyes your beliefs are incomprehensible and neurotic, burdened with primitive emotions, and there is one thing I particularly do not understand, which is your rare indifference to Jesus. Now I'm going to tell you about the prayer of the apparition, laugh if you want, I personally don't believe there is a connection between the two, life is already messy enough that there is no need to add anything supernatural, then you were going to do it for me Poor hands praying, but the sight of the rash leaves you speechless and unable to pray. Then you denied it, when I got mad and wanted to irritate you (recall, Marta ripped off the bandage on her hand, crying out) Be quiet! If you don't pray for me, I'll do it myself! Lord, why do you always make me so disgusting, so horrible, so painful? Why do I have to feel my misery? Why do I have to suffer for my insignificance? If there is any purpose in it please tell me so I can Be willing to accept pain. I am strong, you made me strong in body and soul, but you never gave me a mission worthy of my strength. Give my life meaning! I will be your obedient slave. (back to foreground) This fall I realized that my prayers had come to light. I prayed for a clear mind and I succeeded. I realized that I love you, I prayed for a mission to use my power, and I received it. This mission is you. The above is the voice of a female teacher. My world is dark and lonely when you refuse to answer the phone. What I seriously lack is the ability to express love to you, and I don't know how to do it. I've been in so much pain, I've even thought about going to pray, but I still have a little bit of self-respect, my dearest Thomas, as you can see it's a long letter. And now I'm going to write something I wouldn't dare to say even when you were in my arms: I love you, I live for you, take me and enjoy me. Behind my false self-esteem and independence, there was really only one desire: to be allowed to live for someone, which was difficult. When I think about it, maybe it's just a mistake, tell me I'm not wrong, darling.
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