
You and I, we are special because of each other. In spite of loneliness.
I need you to understand something. I wrote this for you. I wrote this for you and only you. Everyone else who reads it, doesn’t get it. They may think they get it, but they don’t. This is the sign you’ve been looking for. You were meant to read these words.
As you drift further into the past, my memory of you fractures and splinters until all I can clearly remember is not a picture but a feeling.

These are all the tears you’ve ever shed. The ones that taught you who you are. That made you grow up. That let you know that what you felt, mattered. And they are all here for a reason.
Others are going to start doing the things you talk about doing. The right time to start, is right now.
No storm is so bad that you can't learn something from it. You can grow in a storm. You can thrive. Rain cleans the air.
I don't care if the things you say sound corny or like cliches because cliches are usually true. And that's all that fucking matters right now.
Items will say “no known compatible issues” because there will be no known compatible issues and there won’t be any jails or courts or manuals or propriety or form signing and faxing because you will trust me and I will trust you.
You will hear it and no one else will, like your soul wears headphones and only it can hear the music.
No matter how you stack me. No matter how you arrange me. No matter how you look at me. I am still here and I am still the same person made of the same things. I regret nothing.
I was so busy missing you, I missed someone else standing right in front of me. Now I’m missing them instead.
Well then let them hate you but let it be because you are a good person in a bad world and bad always hates good.
And when I asked you how you'd been I meant I missed you more than I've ever missed anything before.
But as the rebuilding begins, the memory of you returns. Shaking the foundations, cracking the walls and spilling what's left of the broken glass into the street.
Similar to tricycles, summer, winter, autumn, spring, bruised knees, your first kiss and there is no Santa Clause, life is really just a series of things that happen. Sometimes to you.
You might not always like me, the things I do or the way I do them. But these are my things, this is the way I do them and I am me.