It's ironic, you think.
He's an enigma, a puzzle.
One that you've never been able to figure out.
You've tried jamming all his pieces together, tried to force all the bits and parts that constitute him into one thing, one picture, one story, one entity, that you can understand.
It never worked.
Instead of helping yourself, you only found hurt.
.
But what's actually ironic is this:
You've always been his key.