when my mind decides, it always seems so final. Yet, if you try hard enough, soften it will and quickly too.
But I’m gonna call a spade a spade. I cannot but feel a little confused. Nearing our end, a request was made- and heeded - that I toil these lonely hours on my own. Not to find another too quickly. Fine. Out of respect.
But u paint the town red in my hours of pain. I find that it reeks of disrespect. That while I try to toil my heart quietly, on my own might I add, you have the heartiest of smiles. No matter where or when. I am glad that you mourn our loss. A new introduction is in the clouds, I assure.
Respect begets respect.