[ ic ; letter - someone you wish you could meet ]
Dear God,
I guess people usually pray to talk to you but I've been praying for years and {...} I don't think you're listening anymore. Which is fine, I guess, because if you haven't done it in centuries, why would you start now, right? But I still wish I could talk to you, maybe get some answers. I mean, after everything we've been through, everything we've done, I still want to know.
Why us? What did we do to deserve
Dear God,
There are a million and a half things I wish I could say to You and another million and a half questions that need answering, but I know that I will never get the chance. And you know what? That's fine by me. Because knowing wouldn't change a thing. Knowing wouldn't make things easier, wouldn't lessen the weight on our shoulders. It'd all end the same, regardless of whether You answered to my prayers or not.
All that's really left to say is {...} screw destiny and screw fate and everything that You ever threw our way. Because we didn't need You or Your guidance to get through it all. In the end, it was our strength that got us through, and it was free will that saved humanity. It was the people that died fighting. Jo, Ellen, Cas, Bobby, {...} Dad. It wasn't some God-given miracle from Above; it was {...} me and my brother {...} and our sheer stubbornness that wouldn't let us give up.
So, yeah. I wish I could meet You, and I wish we could talk face to face, but not to seek enlightenment or redemption or anything like that. It would be just to tell You that we won. We won without You, or Your angels. Without Michael. Just us. We won this war.
You can send a "thank you" letter to Dean in the mail.
Sincerely,
Sam Winchester
I guess people usually pray to talk to you but I've been praying for years and {...} I don't think you're listening anymore. Which is fine, I guess, because if you haven't done it in centuries, why would you start now, right? But I still wish I could talk to you, maybe get some answers. I mean, after everything we've been through, everything we've done, I still want to know.
Why us? What did we do to deserve
Dear God,
There are a million and a half things I wish I could say to You and another million and a half questions that need answering, but I know that I will never get the chance. And you know what? That's fine by me. Because knowing wouldn't change a thing. Knowing wouldn't make things easier, wouldn't lessen the weight on our shoulders. It'd all end the same, regardless of whether You answered to my prayers or not.
All that's really left to say is {...} screw destiny and screw fate and everything that You ever threw our way. Because we didn't need You or Your guidance to get through it all. In the end, it was our strength that got us through, and it was free will that saved humanity. It was the people that died fighting. Jo, Ellen, Cas, Bobby, {...} Dad. It wasn't some God-given miracle from Above; it was {...} me and my brother {...} and our sheer stubbornness that wouldn't let us give up.
So, yeah. I wish I could meet You, and I wish we could talk face to face, but not to seek enlightenment or redemption or anything like that. It would be just to tell You that we won. We won without You, or Your angels. Without Michael. Just us. We won this war.
You can send a "thank you" letter to Dean in the mail.
Sincerely,
Sam Winchester