Courtesy Call

My dear lover, possessor of my heart,

Can't you see? We're not so different, you and I. Even though life shaped us quite unlike one another on the surface it is clear as day to me that we both stand at the height of love and common understanding. Also, how come we be so different, two participant of the same species, of the same age and race? 'Tis nothing more than unsensible to me for you cannot differ from one another that easily, just because we do not share the same philosopical standpoints can you say that we're not alike. No, I digress. The purity of mortal spirits are all and one, from first breath to last though only we are too blind and naive to recognize this; our tools (of understanding) shape us, only until we are capable of shaping them. Forging a new life, sometimes borne in the ashes of night, noble yet unyielding and alone; sometimes we dare step into the light, borne of light, gracious yet unforgiving and still, alone.
Why is it that we argue so much? Even with the purest of intensions there is still room for common misunderstanding that which in itself is more than enough to change our trajectory of thought and feel? Many times we both tried to explain that emotions are not to be bargained with. "We feel how we feel" I said many times over and tried to cover the darkness of my heart. "No sensible explanation can defeat what I feel in me", you said to me.
I accepted the worst and the best, I emraced the tendency towards entropy yet dared to stand tall in a battle bound to be lost, from the point of declaration.
Understanding was sought, not to be found in any place or time. It was reserved for the divine, I thought. Thinking, trying more and more I found something unbearable.
I still remember you telling "it's all about you, isn't it? You're just a self-centered prick who fails to recognize anything but your own." No words could explain how defeated I felt in that very moment. The only aim was to look inwards, in hopes of finding the answers, longed for ages, to be found within. Then being called out on it as a selfish person cut me deeper than I thought it would.
It's kindly beautiful, isn't it? The way we try and try yet still fail to share some common ground? None said to me that I was a sensible man anyways. This sickened mind cursed by decay is all that I've got. Words accompany me on a journey I chose to take not so long ago and you, you never even knew. Not that I blame you for it; only because you never could. Neither could I comprehend how you were forged. Nothing more I could do but wonder, what must have happened so you turned out the way you are?
You don't really know my story, nor do I know yours. No one knows. None ever could.
"There's beauty and honor in the futile war I wage against life and the unknown." I used to say, many times over again only to motivate my broken body to endure another day, to keep seeking the purpose I longed. Then, such a time came, I exclaimed in defeat "to hell with all the metaphors and similes, neither life was a battle to be conquered nor did I ever held any honor in me."
That day, I still remember (not knowing if one could ever forget), the bitter taste of being completely lost. No other direction any different or any less painful than another. The world was not as dark as I pictured it, it was me, with my eyes shut close.
Now, one thing I must make clear is that I hold my own responsible for everything that we had to face. A very upsetting tendency I know but at least, you must know, I hold nobody responsible for all that I or any other person suffered other than me. It's the weight of the world, can you imagine? The sense of not being enough, is nothing other than crushing.
I, a poor lost boy, sick in his ways of thought and decayed in his heart; do not think myself worthy of life. One too many times I thought even death was a salvation not earned by me. So if you think about it and I mean really think about it; yeah you're right. I'm a self-centered cunt who always thinks about what he has done to be in the given situation, and takes it upon himself to make things right, even though that one cunt is powerless against it all. When I think of you, I thought to myself,
"You're an endless universe filled with lovely stars and devastating black holes. I wish to be one with you, so that I may discover my place in this vast dance of darkness and light, as an imperfect shade of grey."
This is the way of my heart and mind. Excuse my faults, as much as it brings disgust I must admit that I too am imperfect and can't make the right decisions all the time, every time.
What's right anyway? Who is to say? Why do we feel the need for rightousness? Maybe even Satan was just as misunderstood as we all are. Can't it be?
Whatever the case may be, the cold hard truth remains. We are alone in this universe, trapped in our minds and takes a lifetime, only to understand. Call me whatever you like, liken me to a feral beast or a heavenly angel; though never dare you say that I did not love you, not cared for you. Do not deny or hate me. I - I just don't know. I try to love the only way I know how to do so. Feeling exiled from this plane of existance, a sick mind is all you need to lose your shit and become as clueless as a wandering lonely cloud on the mercy of the West Wind.
Even at times I may failed to make you understand, make you feel, I love you with all that is left of me. If that's what it takes, I'm ready and willing to devote my remaining life to understand.
With best intensions and all the resolve I was granted,
Yours truly.