You stumble in my footsteps. I’m sorry I don’t understand your pain. I cannot imagine your pain. My life simply doesn’t seem as hard as yours. You’ve lost so much more. You had your dream. Your name took it’s second and final form. Till death.
It stopped. It had to. I know this because you told me. You told me it was bad. that the days were consuming everything. That he wasn’t good. That he had a dark side. You left him and it tore you up. Now, I am here but so far away from you.
Talking. smiling. laughing. Lying to me through what? Your vigor and pride only serve to push me away. Things were different with me. There was no shelter without a man. You must mourn what is lost.
What was lost? Truly. You were a gentle flame. A blossom of my flower. You, shy and shaking, found a strong man to walk beside and swore it forever. A man who proved his strength by holding you down. You proved yourself the stronger and the individual.
I cannot say I understand everything. I am ashamed that was in proud ignorance as an outsider and elder. If I had known, if you had told me, if I had any sight to see the pain behind your eyes. The bruises swelling under Lancome Teint, no doubt, screamed as you had. Sleep doesn’t cross mind without running through every sign and wrong decision.
You are so strong. Stronger that I had ever known or given you credit. Your flame was so brilliant and I had no idea the heat and pressure that it brought you. The pain that would make you want to extinguish your brilliance is so foreign to me, that I probably wouldn’t have believed you had, you told me. I mourn your joy. I want to stretch myself over you and take every sling and arrow. No matter from you or for you. I would sooner lose my own arm and house than bare the thought that there is a day when I cannot call you. When you are beyond every communication. Knowing that I can never see you again.
I wish that live where all that I wanted to teach you it could be. That, evil is punished and good is rewarded. That deeds certain in their worth and valuer. That, the world would never be more dangerous than you could prepare. Where did proving your own path become more pain? When did you no longer look to warm life when cold makes you shiver?