Apologies and Thanks

First off, something old while I collect my thoughts:
Take it. Jump. Leap. Take the risk, take that leap of faith. Jump without looking down first.
You might end up hitting rock bottom, bruised and broken, but you'll be alive, and you won't have a prayer of denying it. No day but today. You'll never feel alive until you die a little bit. You'll never love until you've had your heart broken.
Every single day is an opportunity for you to say, "This is who I am, this is what I need. and goddammit, I'm going to go get it." Sometimes you just hgave to grab happiness by the balls and take it. Just have a little faith.

Alright, here goes nothing.
Loud, thank you. I know Gold means well, but sometimes I need to be reminded. I'm sorry I brought you into this. You said Gold sought others who can accept the distance, and you don't seem sure what I do about it. But you've both made a very grave mistake. I come off as distanced, and it's because I've been pushed to arms length before. Better to be pulled close than pushed away. I think you're right. I needed to hear what he said. I need to be kept on my toes, and I need to hear things I don't like the sound of.

Gold, I've never told you what I've never told you because I got the distinct impression that you didn't give a rat's ass. Something about hearing the exact same answer every time you ask person how they are or what's new for weeks on end gives you that impression. I didn't want to waste your time, and that's not something I normally care about. You never asked me what my favourite colour was, or about my family, at least not that I can remember. I would have told you. I will, if you want to know. All you have to do is ask. I didn't like it, but I'm glad you told me what you really think.

I don't expect of others anything I wouldn't give, anything I don't give. A genuine "How are you?" with the expectation that I'll say something other than "Fine", would be more than sufficient. That would be enough, all I need is a tiny indication that I'm more than another passing face on the street, and then I will be.
I know I've changed. The idea that I'm still the same person as I was four years ago, that someone thinks I'm still the same person as I was four years ago, well, it stings a little. Quite frankly, because I'm not a big fan of that four years ago me. She's not my favourite person in the world, and I'd rather not have people seeing her in me now. There are two different models of identity, a ball covered in wax, every change, every experience, every decision a drop of wax, adding and changing the shape, and a block of stone, boulders and slivers chipped away piece by piece until all that's left is the person, no changes left to make. I like to think it's really a combination of the two. Add a piece of wax, chip a bit off.

Gold and Loud, you already see more of me than the world at large, because you can see two of many facets, which is one more than most can, more than most ever will, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Alright, I'm a little burned out after all that.

The cracks and faults in a heart of glass are what make it more beautiful than when it began.

I don't know who said this, but it makes a lot of sense to me. Nobody's perfect, everybody's broken in some way or another. There's no cure for a broken heart, only a hot mug of tea, a firmly held belief that things will change again, and a prayer that it'll be soon.

Ask me about the value of a cathartic letter.

***A Little Piece of the Past***

This piece of the past isn't all that old. A month, tops. Something I wrote down figuring nobody'd ever see it. I changed my mind.

Something True

"Tell me something true."
The request caught me totally by surprise. I looked at him, unsure how to react. He was looking at the road, even though we were parked. Why was he avoiding my eyes? What did he expect me to say? Something true, but what?
"Um... The sky is blue?" I said tentatively. He looked at me with an expression that said in no uncertain terms, 'You have got to be kidding me.'
"That's not what I meant. Something secret. Something no one else knows."
"Uh-oh. He wanted to know about him. My best friend. Who he was jealous of because I tell him things I can't tell him. He doesn't understand a friendship like that. He's not trying to be posessive, he's just never had that kind of relationship. And for that, I pity him. He doesn't understand I can't just choose one or the other. My friend or my lover. If the friend was a woman, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't be so upset right now. He doesn't understand that I need my friends, I care about him so much, I've known him forever. But that doesn't im any less because of it. Something true. Something he needs to understand. I don't want him like that. He's my friend. That's what I need and want from him. If only I could get him to understand--
"I love you."

Well, that's all, folks...

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
William Shakespeare

Daydream Believer