You transcend all the superficiality of my predisposed boundaries, binding spells with your words. You strip from me my apprehension; you tell me I am too good for it, and that I will no longer have it to hide behind it in your company. You need not ever ask why I feel as I do. I have never met someone with whom I can trade places so thoroughly. I have never felt so connected and yet detached from myself.
You tell me, "Deepest sadness, but I’ve pled my case; I do not know what more to say, as I feel there are no words left unspoken. If I can not give you all that you need, then take it, run with it, and revel in it. This life is meant for pleasure, not for pain, we were born for luxury, not for heartbreak."
Trust, the most illusory of conditions, is rained upon by the blows of a violation, left reeling, unglued, unscrewed and unable to rebound. It isn’t what was revealed (for I am not ashamed of either my words or my actions) but that it was revealed before its time . . .
You must now live with this revelation.
I must now live without my words.
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