Letter to myself:

Some nights, I miss you. Some nights, I return to you. I’ve grown so much since 2012, but there are parts of me that are just like you still. I am a changed man. I am flawed, yes, but my pursuit is no longer my own. You lost sight of this goal a long time ago. God has called me to a life of ministry. God has asked me to go far from here, and I need to be far from you to fulfill that goal. Your power wanes each day, but it grieves me when you try taking over. I hate it when you try to come back. You’re outdated. God loved you enough to make you into me, and I’m still changing as I learn more about Him. It’s not hopeless, and God has plans to prosper you. You just have to submit yourself to His will constantly.

Letter from my sex addict:

I wish for so many things. I wish the guys at Boy Scouts when I was 14 hadn’t talked about it and made me curious. I wish that, once I’d started taking action against this, that I wouldn’t have met my first girlfriend. I wish I had been wiser and seen her character before she started telling me to revisit these sins. Remember how she made it sound? Like it was something that any guy would do for his girlfriend? Well, I did it. It was never enough for either of us. I remember the trust my parents put in me when they bought this laptop. It wasn’t too long before we used the webcam. Skype calls, performances for her. It was never enough, and still I try the same things to fulfill me.
Remember every night after “providing” for her, I’d sit in the floor of the bathroom, a new bloody mark on my wrist to distract from the guilt I felt. It has been a year since that last mark, but not so long since I’ve indulged myself on memories of her. She left a long time ago, but I guess I never did. After all, she made me feel something (even if what I felt was pain).
If I could tell you to do something, I’d tell you to run. Run as far as you can get from me. You have so much ahead of you. God has pressed it into your heart to live life for the glory of His name, and I can’t think of something more illogical than to refuse that for a night of guilt, pain, and regret. Don’t be prideful like I am. Don’t refuse the help of your brothers. Ask for help. You need it. You aren’t self-sustaining. I needed help, and not asking for it is what kept me in the same place. Please run. It has been three years, and it’s time to move on.