You say we're the same, that everything I do, clicks in you too. But that's not true, is it? Because how can we be the same when you have never heard my innermost thoughts? Never asked me what my favorite flavor of ice cream is or how I take my coffee? How can we be the same when you ignore everything about me you don't like or care about?
I've felt your eyes glaze over as I pour my heart and soul into topics you never even knew existed before I fell in front of you, a massive pile of papers and ink. Sure, you dusted me off and gave a listen, but did you ever even hear my words? Or was I just a weekend read that you never realized was part of a series so old, it began before words even took formation.
Because what makes up me is deeper than I dare let anyone see. You see the thinnest, dullest parts of me and think they pair perfectly with your equally dull bits. And sure they do, for a while, but unlike you, I need waters deep enough to support a universe so hidden, the brightest of stars couldn't burn their way through its dark depths. But that's ok. Because those who peel back the boring and dive in deep without hesitation or warning find life so vividly bright, lighting up every cell from within, that it burns through the dark and murky depths.
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