You wanted it all.

You wanted the warmth of the stars held in the palms of your hands.

You wanted to wake up next to someone.

You wanted to be noticed with delicate beauty in the midst of chaos.

You wanted kisses on your forehead.

You wanted the rush. You wanted the ease.

And when you couldn't have it, you left. You left us all--everyone.



But I could have told you, this world was never meant for someone as beautiful as you.

And I'm sorry for only saying this now, but I felt the same.

I wanted everything too, you know.


I wanted you.

And with every single moment you find out that things were not as they seemed. And with every single hope that just turned out to be nothing more than a silly manifestation.

Pieces of you start to peel away, chip off.

Yet you try so hard to remain adamant in the game--while at the same time wanting so hard to give up. So hard to give in. It's easier that way.

It gets to the point where you can't tell if these events, these mishaps are making you stronger, or numb.



Because the two are definitely not the same.