My heart, however rapidly beating, felt emptied of all true hope and yet again it seemed that is was probably about time. Life had a funny way of leaving me, in sporadic intervals, just as breathless as the moment I first set my eyes upon you. I had hopes that the same fire within that was my growing passion for you would not be doused by such temporal and likely meaningless endeavors, regardless of how light-hearted they were meant to be. It was taking a toll on my spirit, which ached to keep up with you and somehow compete with the excitement and pleasure that came in such new experiences. What if I could never be new again? To this world, I didn’t so much care. I may as well be as old as the hills. But to you, I held an honest yearning to be forever different and somehow, still, just the right fit for you. Was I, now, losing your trust in simply giving you away far too easily or too much? And if you answered yes, would you ever find forgiveness for me in foolishly doing so when I’ve learned my lesson repetitively? From the moment I first saw you, I remembered, and I felt that you were mine. And I’ve never been good at sharing. Perhaps these were my fleeting consequences, my mistakes that I must manage to live alongside. It just didn’t seem right, and I wondered if it caused you the same malfunction, let alone undeniable distress.
You just wanted someone to talk to. I was always there, but sometimes I ran out of things to say. Or you ran out of reasons to speak to me. Perhaps I couldn’t truly be the solution to all of your problems. As much as I silently feared being the root of them. I knew in my heart I couldnt create such atrocities, knowing fully of your suffering. You told me you don’t know what you would do without me. And I told you that you would be just fine. Now I think that it may just be me who wouldn’t be okay. Still, I find your words are true: “you’re my solution; you make all of my problems go away.”