Someday you will be out in the world
Having pulled every root of yours
From the ground
And torn every heartstring
From those around you
On your way
Out.
Too busy
Too skittish
Too wild
Too cowardly
Too strong
For them all.
And you will turn around and find
That you are alone for the first time
My friend
And you will realize
That there is nobody left who is wishing they could talk to you
Nobody who would come running to your side
If you called them at 1 in the morning
Nobody who thinks of you every day or even every few
With fondness and hope.
And you will feel very sad
My friend
Because you will have so carefully pushed them all away that you will see nobody left who cares that you still live.
But
Even though you will not speak to me
Even though you hardly look at me
Even though
You don't want to know me
You'll be wrong, when you realize all that
Because there will still be me.
That is my last gift to you.