The very existence of your soul in the same rotation as mine has me in chills. The cold touch of memories have faded to the whisper of a Winter’s breath. You are lost among the treetops, the Appalachian wonderland where you roam without worry. I, too, am lost. However, there are no footsteps to follow backwards. Two years of seasons have gone by and the rain washed away the tracks to lead me home. Instead, I wander onward toward the never-ending abyss of adventure and intrigue, a tiresome cycle of approaching the unknown.

The liberation you found was in your words, the creation of which came to you as easily as everything else in your beautiful world. The light surrounding you and your mind was of dazzling brilliance, and there was no chance that my darkness could be a part of that world; the universe simply couldn’t allow it. I made the mistake of following the path of righteous despair away from you and all the goodness you represented for me. I had to fall out of love with an idea of a person, because that’s all you can be for me while I roam, and I’m not in a place where I can stop. Not yet.

The world that I’ve created lives and breathes every day for my very existence, and no amount of narcissism can make me believe I will ever be good enough for you. So, go about your way without worry or a second thought about the trail of glitter you left behind. I’ll keep finding sparkles in my hair while I lean on what I believe to be solid, then take yet another step into the unknown. Maybe the next time our paths cross I’ll be a bit more brilliant, maybe even brilliant enough.