Intentionally Untitled

M.

I write to you from the bottom of this empty pit you used to call a heart. You had a heart once, remember? Back in the day, when you always had someone to love. When you had everything to give and nothing to lose. When you truly believed in the kindness of humanity and allowed as much leeway for others as they did for you.

Do you remember what it’s like to love, what it’s like to look at someone and just be able to take yourself out of the picture, to be able to care about the betterment of that person more than your role in the life of another?

I don’t think you do, my dear. I don’t think you want to. I think you’ve loved to your fullest capacity and given it all away — you’ve given your heart away. You’ve given your soul away. You’ve given your body away. You’ve given your mind. You’ve given away so much of yourself that you’re left with the core.

I’ve seen your core, my dear, and I know exactly what it entails for you to be you. I understand your intelligence, I know how it feels to be ostracized by ignorance and idiotic masses who have been lowering the standards of what is produced because they’re too entangled in their own egos and insecurity. I know your pain when you look at the world and watch people care more about their reputations more than the people in their lives who give it to them in the first place.

I know you, my dear, I know that you’re suffering. And I know that you choose to suffer because you want to be around the broken. You want to be the saviour of the world, for you’ve had people save you when you didn’t even realize you were drowning.

My dear, I’ve spent years in search of you. Every broken, shattered shard of glass that you turn yourself into every day that you look at this chaotic and monotonously egotistic world of humans. I’ve been trying to piece you back together, despite your relentless resistance towards being whole.

I’ve given you space to do this alone. I stayed out of your way so that you could grow. I’ve stayed in the background in case you backslide, I’ve been at the bottom of the canyon in case you fall. You can do this alone, but your solitude…has collateral…

You might want to be left alone, but my dear, I know how dangerous you can be when no one is reining in on you. I also know that you can’t be contained, which is why I wouldn’t dare try.

But one thing is certain. You want someone to stay…you just can’t accept that you have it already.

Because my dear…here I am.

I’ve been here all along. You just never realized it while you were so busy watching the great-wide-world break that you didn’t even notice the cracks in your own. The earthquakes and tsunamis reaching out to you from the depths of what you once loved about yourself.

Back when you still knew how to love.

Back…when I was a secret, and not a performance.

Back when…

I was you.

 

 

G.

 

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