Grief comes from part of us buried deep inside our minds, beyond the ideas of rationality.
Such sadness is not natural, for the world is magnificently beautiful in numerous, minute ways.
Music is my escape from the grief that encompasses my every thought, invading my dreams,
And influencing my decisions. I question my, and other’s motives for life’s circumstances.
Is it selfless to refuse to allow yourself simple joy, if it means there is a chance for others to hurt?
Or is it selfish to crave to appear selfless and certainly not selfish; by no means are you selfish,
In front of those whose opinions matter? Could life not be easier, if I found it within myself to not,
To not cower at the innocent thought of criticism? Am I really so afraid of being imperfect?
Surely non-existent perfection should not be so threatening and rightful, but it truly is.
In the world, there are a handful of things that honestly scare me down to my core.
You are aware of many of these, but I prefer to keep my own secrets trapped within me,
Fighting their way through skin and bone. My secrets tear me apart, but you make me whole.
Once again, I am left without a way to repay you, or at least show you the effect you have.
In my darkest hours, I turn to you with my doubts, and you show me the light, and lead me out.
You do not judge me, only my actions. You speak what I need to hear, and you stop the tears.
It seems as if every day I run to you with my troubles, but here lays the beauty of our friendship;
At the end of your tunnel, I await with open my arms. You turn to me with your fears and I oblige.
We give and take, we contribute and receive. There is no strong and weak. We are equal.
This is what offers me the most comfort. I have just as much to lose as you do.
Sadly, I am relieved by the notion that you cannot leave me, because that truthfully scares me.
There is a chance that being left terrifies me beyond measure; I have revealed so much,
More to you than anyone I have ever met. There is a quiet security and relief in telling a secret.
Even miniscule, unimportant truths you keep locked away in your mind. We bear the weight,
For one another, we would take a bullet for the other. Or at least I would; I don’t know about you.
It could be the idea of noble death, or of selfless sacrifice, but I like to believe it is love.
Love which conquers all that stands before it, love that teaches, and love that burns brighter than the sun:
These beliefs have shaped my life, my heart, and my soul. Sacrifices are made for love, everyone knows.
Before now, I had always stuck to my comfort zone, but you have brought me from my shell.
Without doubt, I am thankful for the actions you take, and the words you say. But I have remorse,
I wish I could help you trust, for now it seems I’m the only you let in; it is a shame I cannot help you more.