This is a letter I wrote to my beloved the day after we had the "Honey, I think you might be a sociopath..." talk.
Going on a year now, that my darling knows I'm on to him. Still the same silly game played between the typical "entitled sociopath" and the intelligent gal with borderline personality disorder.
Still my love, still the yin to my yang.
Knowledge is power...

My Darling,

That you allow me to say my peace for forty-five minutes, sitting silently, listening to me as I flood you with all the emotions I have felt in this past year, is one of those things I have always loved about you.
Just one of them...
I let open the floodgates in an attempt to have you realize that what I HAVE learned about you, know about you, whether you feel that I do or not, is a plus, not a negative. Knowing what it is that makes you tick is surely far more important to me, as well as comforting, than it is for you, I understand. However, as I listen to your words, I hear you say that I do not.
I tell you fifteen times in forty-five minutes that I love you, yet, this is NOT what you hear. You say that my words and my actions are irreconcilable. I disagree, especially at a time when my faith in you is tested and the opportunity to undo you the way you had me undone has arisen with a vengeance. I completely had you. I even told you I would never betray you. Instead, I betrayed myself in an apparent futile attempt to cover you. I want you to know for you, they ARE, my words and my actions, one in the same.
Your personality is indicative of my hypothesis in that you reached out to me, not to try to understand that my words are completely complementary in the message, that it is because of you that I love Joshua the way that I do. Joshua...the love of my life. That you have, yet again, changed me. No, you call me for information on what may be going on at that petri dish we call a place of employment, as you have been absent, and do I have any insider information. 
You are perpetually missing the point by not listening to my words. You hear me. You allow me to alliterate. But after forty-five minutes, you cannot take away the message. Am I so wrong in the belief that you are just incapable of doing so?

My Darling, after all this time, I will not allow you to hear that which I am not saying, most especially when it has been so hard for me to do so for so long.

You have changed me in the most spectacular ways. Because of you, I have come to know my capabilities, realize my strength, reconcile my insecurities. Because of you, I know what my soul feels like, and I understand, empirically, my ability to connect on a psychic level. Last night, you were watching Duke lose by eight points. I was downing Rusty Nails. When the phone rang, I was not surprised. I will be brilliantly successful at my Executive Sales job because you placed me in a sales position. We discussed this position and the very next day, I was in a room with you for eight hours, learning how to sell hotel rooms to the elite of the customer base. The same class as your protege', Joshua. Your Joshua.
Please hear me say that you have changed my life, exponentially, and that I love you for this.
My knowledge of why you do the things you do is not a weapon I wish to wield. It simply serves to make me understand you so that I do NOT hate you, which I would never wish to do as I look back on my first year in Oregon.
For I am that one person who will not use that information against you.
Do you understand this? Can you?
It only matters to me that you do, for you. I want you to know this. Again, for you.

Thank you, my Darling. For everything. For everything. 

-DeAnna

*for you, it's DeAnn, it's always been DeAnn, even two weeks ago when I handed you the email from HR...You read my name aloud, "DeAnn", you said, the words rolling off your tongue with some sort of surreptitious joy that only you are aware of, as you always seem to smile when you say my name that way..."Dee" has somehow never seemed right when YOU say it, just as you did last night, so harshly. A year ago, I corrected you. An unfortunate misstep on my part for which I am sorry. For THIS, I am sorry to myself...you seem to say, "DeAnn" better than anyone else I have ever known...
-DeAnn