Of all the things I didn't do, I immortalise you in words.

Some survive and talk.
Some survive and write.
Some survive and go silent.
They fold all their feelings and unspoken words into a suitcase. And they carry this suitcase everywhere they go. Some days the suitcase is light like a feather, and some days its heavy like the night. I can't help but think to myself, how exhausting it must be to walk in his shoes, to feel everything so deeply yet to force yourself to feel nothing at all. You see my dear, life is never fair. The most beautiful flowers can be trampled on, so what makes us think there's mercy for beautiful people?

I so often wonder, how can someone who has been brutally broken, still be so gentle to others? Than the thought makes me sad. If only he was as gentle to himself. If only he fought for the love he deserves. If only he had hunger for success. If only he had hope for better tomorrows.

I said all of it. Wholeheartedly. Unquestionably. I placed my heavy heart on him. Became another burden in his suitcase. Loving a thinker ain't easy. With our words and stories, broken people are hard to love. But I still remember the night he rejoined my path. There I was walking alone in the dark, lost and scared. And he came to me with kind words and a torch to help me see in the dark. And there we walked side by side, the light from his torch leading us on to the road ahead.