you know you'll never find another like me, i'm one of a kind,
so make sure you know what you're losing, when you lose me.

i tried so hard to make you feel like you could open up. i did it a lot with you, to see if it would make you feel more comfortable. i tried to showcase how nonjudgemental i was, how open minded i was, how willing i was to be friends with you again. maybe it just showed how stupid, and naïve, and pathetic i was. and maybe now you think i was never who you thought i was.

but i was always me. always. that's always been who i am. and this is also who i am. i take chances, i give people second chances, and. i wanted to spare another, but if i wake up in the morning, and i can't.

i cannot apologize for that.

life is like a pair of sneakers; you have the people who'll help you when you're down, tying up your shoes, and you have the people who will endlessly step on your laces, without a single word. keep your shoes tied, knotted a thousand times and you'll be walled off from either people. some don't even like sneakers, and prefer sandals; the easy way through life, the breezy, get stepped all over life. others prefer boots; hardened, protected, and determined to not be pushed around. the beings with the heels; they're high on their pedestals, they know what they want, they're confident, even if it's just for that one day.. everyone has their own special pair of shoes; we don't stick to just one, though, do we? phases of life, feet growing, fads. and we find people with just the same shoe taste, or perhaps just the opposite.

whatever the shoe be... *as long as it fits.

for he was what people called glorious, in all that he had done. in every century he had fought and survived, nothing less and nothing more, but he had done it all with grace. he lived through every day, what not many could do with ease. the man explored the world, ventured into cities, drank with all sorts of individuals, young and old, and he had tasted the finest wine, and slept in the most luxurious of places. but what had he been missing then, that made his soul feel so empty and weak? he had the world at his feet—but there was no love in his life, nothing true and deep, as the one he had now. for of course, you may have the world, the universe, the galaxy, but without love of some kind?

*you are nothing but lonely.

and although many wish it were true, your sadness cannot be so easily taken away. memories of your past, all the hits and the blows, those marks will never leave you; they'll linger on your skin, and those kisses they placed on every sensitive spot on your body, will not just be forgotten. 'sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me,' is most untrue, for those scars will always bring back a blast from the past, the way you lost your ability to walk will always be a memory, and the way daddy hurt you will never fade away from your mind, as you stare down at the place those bruises once were. perhaps you will grow from them, and realize how strong you truly are for living on, but don't tell anyone, especially not me, that you'll forget about it eventually, or that you'll be fine, or that this phase of sadness will pass, or that someone will come around and brighten things up, because lord knows that, that is not what i want to hear, and it's incredibly false. my sadness cannot just be cured by some guy, my father's words of hatred will not just be forgotten, i cannot just be fine with all that anxiety, and my paranoia is not just a 20 year phase.

so please, respect at least that.

please don't be a ***** to me,
because then i'll have to be a ***** back to you,
and everyone knows i'm a lot better at it than you.