Perception Of A Broken Heart

Never say I don't need you, or that your presence here was inconsequential. I am not deliberately harsh; however harshly deliberate I may be. If I am as the lightning bolt, then those about whom I care the most are as the pile of rubble I have made . . . but only momentarily, as their destiny is so much more than that. I am merely here to hold up a mirror, I am an instrument, an incentive, a way of catalyzing a change which is so direly needed. Further explanation is unnecessary, even presumptuous . . .

But know only this - this is the one thing I do without ego. You merit all due credit for crystallizing this notion and bringing it to light from out of the murkiest depths of my subconscious.

I finally understand what it is that I wanted from you . . . what I wanted is just to want, as it made me feel alive, just a little less jaded, just a little less indifferent. For so long I have strived to command such a consummate control over my life, only to find out that it’s boring me. And yet, even in my recognition, I endeavor to control this, too.

Restless, never satisfied, I either want it all or nothing. I ruin nothing by turning it into something, and turn all into none on a transient whim. Realisation does nothing to alleviate this inescapable cycle, this inevitable pattern. It still thrills me to get what I never wished to have.

For this, and all other reasons, I love you always . . .