Oh these tricky things, these matters of the heart.

We seek reason where it doesn’t exist. Everyone that has ever felt something knows the heart tells you things your mind finds foolish. We try to find a way to fill the empty space that has crept up, that only that one person can fill, but currently they don’t. It remains vacant. The emptiness stares back at you, and you find yourself at a loss for words. Not because you don’t want to say anything- you do, but because you are afraid those words will be left unreciprocated, that things will change, that friendships will dissolve. This internal struggle is exhausting, but you can’t just leave it in limbo. You tried that. It didn’t work. It came back to haunt you, stronger still. The next time just might kill you. So now you are left in a place no better than where you started, in fact it might be worse. But still you repress and repress, and discover something about yourself. Maybe when it comes to this, you can’t be honest, a quality you claim to posses. Maybe it is better to leave this unsaid. This time, the risk is too great and frankly… I‘m unwilling.