i have reason to believe that the sound of silence isn't as loud as it makes itself out to be. there's reason laced within even the most absurd of accusations, love intertwined with the even the hardest of phrases even though it may feel like your heart has just rammed itself into a brick wall - there's an ulterior motive, another way out, a different way to look at things even when you don't quite know what the thing is. because the thing could be anything; it could be meant to be looked at from the outside looking in but you'd be caught somewhere in the middle, not quite out yet not quite in, and your perspective isn't what everyone else wants it to be but it's your view and it's your reasoning and your justification is sound.
do you ever think about where something could've lead you if you were to look at it differently? i must admit, that there was a time in my life where i firmly believed that everything that happens, happens for a reason. now i'm not quite so sure - you'll come across people and you'll get to know them and some will stay and some will go. but why? why do people choose to go and how do they leave without question, without reason, without justification, without a trace? you left and i have no way of getting to you apart from half-assed messages that you probably don't even read, and you're hundreds of miles away, caught up in creating your own story like you had said you had always wanted to do.
i want to be the person to say that they hadn't failed you, that there hadn't been something, anything, to blame either of us for. but i know that's how you see me now - a failure, a broken record of overused words and nonsensical phrases that have been used over and over and over again, so much so that they flow into their own river deep enough for you to drown in, deep enough for you to mistake the burdens of pity and fear and anguish at the bottom of the floor as heavy stones, a nuisance and inconvenience for when you want to swim, but a blessing for your unsteady feet when they lead you back to shore.
the pain that you've brought into my life has been something that i've been unable to cope with. i'm helpless and lost to your cause, incoherent and unable to formulate my thoughts as seamlessly as i used to - i've become wretched, my luck has become unfortunate and my words have become so melancholic to the point where they've reached complete and utter despair, a failure to my whirlwind of thoughts - but i must admit: i'd be a failure a hundred times for a thousand lifetimes over if it means having met you.