You are too bright for me.
I am not a shadow or dark, but you are too bright and good.
Do you know those sunspots? Where the light is especially concentrated there? If you are the sunspot, that can reach from the sun to the earth without many problems, I am the through countless times broken and reflected ray.
It's fitting, that you have hair of sunshine and smiles just as bright.
(I don't think of myself of evil, but it is so much easier for me to listen to its sweet whispers and fleeting promises.)
You are too happy for me.
I am not ungrateful for your support, but you are too happy and naive.
Do you remember when I started being strong? You were beaming at me, so proud and relieved and hopeful, and I was blinded. It was as much as a moment of weakness as it was a beginning of a celebration.
It's fitting, that you have they sky in your eyes and a heart just as wide.
(I want to share you with the world, to let all of them see how good and happy and honourable you are and bask in your kindness and light. But you chose to stay with me, although you belong elsewhere.)
You are too loyal to me.
I am not unworthy or undeserving of you, but I cannot help but think that you are wasting your time when you can have it easier.
Do you think that I will be whole again one day, so that you can admire the masterpiece you helped in fixing and recreating? Nothing about me will ever be perfect, but they can serve to highlight your perfections and mask your flaws. My shards can be made into beautiful jewelry or decor. A souvenir, perhaps?
It's fitting, that you have stardust and hope as your spirit and dreams as soft as clouds.
(I have jagged cuts and nets of cracks, yet you polish and cherish me. I keep trying to work hard so that one day, I will be at your side and mirroring what you are to me. But you try to put me in that place already, as if I complete the picture and accomplish the dream the way I am now.)
You are too stable for me.
I am not unhappy that, finally, someone is there for me, but it feels so different and scary to have someone supportive at my side without a price that is too high or uncomfortable to pay.
Do you ever think that I will never be whole and perfect again? Because that is what I often do, then wanting to reach for that sweet and liquidized oblivion. But you always look so disappointed and hopeful, that I can wait for just a little bit longer for a distraction.
It's fitting, that you have a patience that has the elasticity of spider silk and seemingly indestructible like diamond.
(I don't know where this will lead us, but for now I'm happy, and that's all I can ask for.)
Before I cared, I patted your shoulder.
(And even though I had to climb from my pedestal, and knew I had to sanitize my hand afterwards, I did it.)
A moment of rebellion, of insanity, and things that can't be rationalized. It is not love at first sight, nor love in any kind of form. Not yet then, at least. A 'I felt like doing it' moment. An execution of unformed ideas without outlines and shading.
Not a urge from your guts. Not a voice telling you what to do. Not even instincts or reflexes.
Just a body moving without coherent thought.
(And you cannot regret things you aren't really responsible for, can you?)
This happiness, it's foreign.
(Somewhat.)
It is not unlike the empathy that comes with someone grasping hands after a war, or seeing a newborn bird flapping its wings even though it is far too early to fly. A longing for something that will come given time and luck, yet is presently unattainable with a teasing tingle on your tongue and a twitch in your fingers emphasizing this.
But it's still different. Like how the music is distant like in a dream, and the beat in your bones and blood in the aftermath from a battle of freedom due to an overcrowded party.
A different genre; A yet to be heard album.
(And I buy it before I can think it through.)
I am unsure where this chemical bond came from.
(Or this glue.)
You are not by any means someone I share my morals and views with.
You are difficult, alien, and interesting. Your views on the world are needlessly complicated and conflict with each other. I don't think that it is beneficial for my mental efficiency to stay here, but-
I do. I stay.
(And for some reason unknown to me but my actions, you are worth it.)
I don't yet know why I am staying.
It's not from the goodness of my heart, nor because I care. Or do I?
(I don't know- I don't know.)
All I do know is that you see me as, while not a saviour or hero - because they are too rare to come by, a possibility into a better future. A creator of opportunities.
And that's alright.
(It really is.)
It is not pointless to have the right answer to the wrong question.
Sometimes, one just has to keep searching for the question.
And when you don't find the question, you already have the answer in case it comes to you.
That is a kind of luck in itself, isn't it?
AN: Had this lurking around for some time, better post it before I forget.