Wince

"I think honestly what happened is we had that experience many summers ago, and we learned a lot from that ... and I think on the other side of that we found that we couldn't shake the experience of that summer. That it was still resinating with us, and not only that, but it's resonance had grown, like it was as if the clamoring of it was stronger than it had been when it happened, and why? Like why did we feel the need to keep talking about it with each other? And why were we so desperate to talk about it with other people? And so we wanted to write something about it, we couldn't help ourselves really."

You painfully told me all of your deepest, darkest secrets, and I did not flinch, sometimes I cried, but never flinched.
I think you just happened to supply to me all of the things that I innately require to live, feeling necessary (not needed), making me think, listening, having something to love unconditionally, giving me hope.
I think that I accidentally had much of what you needed to live, acceptance (for the real and true you), consistent support, giving you something to love unconditionally (in its realest, and truest form), trust.
It all comes back to doubt, utmost the doubt that no one will love us the way that we did, and we will therefor be rendered unable to ever love ourselves, ever. Once a person shows me caring that comes close to the potential that you shared, I will remove myself so far from the pitiful mess (we both feel at fault for). Though, we know
that day may never come.

"Such fragile moments we share."