Beyond the Milky Way

cloaked-figure-watching-the-stars

I was wrong. I was scared. Frustrated. I had looked for you for eons, and…I never thought about the possibility of you not looking for me. Self-centred much? That’s because it is. I was scared, I am scared. That’s what fuelled my search. I was lost in the woods and I was desperately looking for a cabin to shelter me from the darkness and storms. Stormy darkness. Dark storms? Maybe.
I repelled you by seeking you, and for that I was devastated on some level. I realized you’re the one person to whom I couldn’t offer some sort of redemption of myself , like I have with others. There was nothing I could wedge in between us, and I suddenly came to face my naked soul. That was not acceptable to me. I didn’t want anyone to see my soul, without some sort of distraction. But you see right through me. You listen to my silence, to what I left out. I feel exposed. Even as I type this I feel watched, observed.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for who I’m not. I’m brazen and I’m broken. I’m furious like the waves on a stormy night. Ever-changing like the seasons.

I’m sorry for hiding behind anger; but the thrill excites me and my cries drown in the clamour, so no one can hear me.
I’m sorry for trying to change you. For seeking shelter in you. Your soul is a palace, and palaces aren’t for the lost wanderers, like me.

Not knowing if we’ll cross paths again, I leave my soul ajar. I’m a wild night and mellow morning. Are you dusk or are you dawn?

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