If for some reason we ever find ourselves speaking from the heart. Really saying what we feel regardless of how we would make someone else feel then I will give you a call. I will log into my Gmail and I will restore your contacts and I will not spend a second hovering over that dial button. I will call you and say that I have found god and that he has whispered his disappointment in my ear. That I have spent a lifetime trying to be impenetrable and that you shook me to the ground and that that is why I left. That I am a slave to my habits and that I haven’t got half the soul of half a fighter. That we must have left a mark across multiple dimensions that the universe felt a little threatened. And he had to push as apart for balance to be once more restored. He came with fear, with doubt. He came with a huge burden of self consciousness but just a little pinch self worth. That I don’t like how you fuel my writing now with the inks of regret and that I miss my shining black muse.
We are all addicted to the things we shouldn’t be addicted to. If you are lucky enough, your addiction may be fast and fatal but if we are of the same boat then we are cursed with only those that kill us slowly. Be it hope be it love, be it cigarettes or be it all the sadness of broken hearts. We almost always find a way to subtly kill ourselves. I am a victim of myself and you are the victim of the two of us. Your method of slowly dying wore a halo and mine soared with burning wings and we all know Evil wins everywhere else except in the bible and in movies. We are both victims of our natures in a world with very little that tells you of the contrast. We are prisoners of ourselves and the savior is two billion years a little too late. So as much I wanted to chase perfection with you, I fell a little under the earth and I’m still trying to get up.
I did not leave the race. I did not abandon you on enemy territory to face the world on your own. But I cannot ask you to come back for me now. If I want us to survive, I will only ask you to wait for me where you are. For if you came back here, then we’d just be two fools stuck in the mud together. It might be dangerous, and it is sure far from a safe bet that I will make it to you, but I call out to the woman of hope inside you. If you get a glimpse through all the fog of pretence and see that I am worth waiting for, then, wait for me.