It is hard to tell what feelings are what. I was overcome with an overwhelming dissatisfaction regarding myself as a whole, so I sought out to aid that by the only means I knew how to. It felt as if I must tell you that the storm outside shook me to my core, and left an awareness in my chest I knew all too well, the notion I was entirely alone. People and thunder are not all that different sometimes, but of course that is not what I told you. I admitted one of my most prevalent truths, without you even knowing so. I want to be there for you, I just don't know how to. I am not sure how to so much as ascertain who it is I am speaking to. The words come pulling out like teeth, because these apologies are meant for everyone I ever felt that I let down. This is an all-encompassing sorrow, and yours unmistakably so. You confess that your sadness does not allow you to be yourself, that you are so sorry to me for that. My chest is shaking like the walls of the house, I tell you never to ask for forgiveness for warranted unhappiness. I am speaking to so many people in so many different years and places, but all the same situation. I am pulled back into the moment, like teeth, and realize yet again that I learned so little, I cannot heal your unhappiness, so I fall asleep.
"Thank you, you are literally the only person to say that to me." "You could never be too mushy so I find you perfect."
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