"You Sit Inside Your Room While It Rains Outside, Press Your Face To The Glass And Watch Those Tiny Drops

"You sit inside your room while it rains outside, press your face to the glass and watch those tiny drops reach their destination, the inviting ground. Then, you go outside, get drenched and your long hair sticking to your face, the clothes clinging like leeches, and warmth long gone.

Some things are better off far and distant. Embracing too much of them often makes you ill. Stay home. Stay dry."

You know what home is?

The place we succumb to at the end of the day.

Or the place where someone awaits our arrival.

Or some comfortable pieces of furniture enclosed within concrete walls.

Or the place we first felt confined in.

Or the place we first desired to run from.

Or? What exactly?

And what kind of madness it is by the way, to expect back as much as you give? To want to die happy and content and not disappointed? This is the world we are talking about. Tragedy is silent here. Not absent.

People come. Conquer our hearts. And then they go.

What do they leave behind?

A yearning heart that believes it is fine, but wears the voids they left, like a soldier wears scars from the wars. Like I am glad it happened on the outside but on the inside, my body still twitches in pain remembering of it.

Growing up each day, we realize not everyone we've been close to has the same perspective as us about life. Our approaches are different and so are our takes on different situations.

Growing up good, however, means we share different perspectives yet not drift apart. It is like walking on the same road, on a starry night, and glancing at different stars, and still loving them for the same reasons.

Togetherness doesn't mean stark similarity. It means mutual differences yet honest love.

Oh how tragic it is to be two people in two different states, with two different sets of problems, with two different level of anxieties, and two different abilities to cope, to come together and talk. Not just that, but bare yourself so hard before the other, that at one point, the two different lives become a beautiful confluence of problems and solutions. That no matter how deep this ocean of mess becomes, we ain't leaving each other's hands.