Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

Can I tell you why I think you’re positively, absolutely inevitable for me?

I think that you’re brilliant, beautifully so. I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around how much you can process, how much you can handle. (How much has that been? How much have you been through?) I don’t know how to manage those equations or make sense of the world. But, you do, and that’s what captivates me. Teach me how to cope. Teach me to be strong like you.

I want to know everything there is to know about you; I think that there’s more to you than you originally let on. At first, you let me think of you as a dorky child that needed some hobbies, and now I can only see what you are: the opposite. There’s so much to you, so much to learn and so much to see. I want to see it all.

Will you let me?

I want to see the parts of you that few do, the part that hurts and the part that feels confusion, envy, feels jealousy and revulsion. I want to see the part that needs healing and that part that needs none, the part that loves something and the part that hates it. I want to see all of you, every last complicated little stitching. I’m sure it would be worth the ride.

You told me once, perhaps twice, that you’d like to tell me things. I’ve been waiting patiently, oh so patiently, until you’re ready for that day. I can’t even tell you what it meant when you resurfaced it, what it meant that you wanted to trust me with that. I don’t know if you’re ever going to be prepared for that sunset (and I know that you’ll never forget your southern sunrise) but I’ll keep waiting.

I’ll keep waiting for you.