You. You are the only one who can understand me when my thoughts seemingly abandon my lips. Without you, I am the kind of tired that no amount of rest can fix and the kind of sad that tears cannot drown. Without you, I am the kind of lost that they do not make a map for and the kind of silent that pricks every eardrum. Without you, I am the kind of broken that only comes when so many pieces are shattered off the whole that it forgets it painted a picture at all. The comforting pain I feel in your presence overpowers the painful comfort I feel in your absence.
Everyone I’ve met thus far has played a part in my story. Some have taken up paragraphs, come have ended up becoming chapters, some are awaiting their sequels, while some are just scribbled notes on the last blank page. But, you are the one I want to grace all the pages I have yet to write. I remember reading somewhere, “Destiny is simply not what happens to you. It’s what you choose to create from whatever and whoever life has given you.”
Sometimes I don’t know how I’ll ever survive these long nights — nights when I’m lost for words and feel like silently crying without your shoulder to lean on. I often find myself fumbling over words and have my feelings come out all wrong as I look into those deep, moistened eyes. But I want to fumble. I want to know it all even when it hurts. I want tears and pain and quietness. I want reverberations of nothing being poured back in with each drop of hope that falls out of me.