Exhaust

[Nerdanel]

I believe; and therefore I know:

There is no soul, not one, that could fully and completely understand me: not one to comprehend the complexity of my being; and if comprehended, it is never to be appreciated, nor accepted. Not the beauty, nor the ugliness; not the consistency, nor the inconsistency; not the violent love, nor the silent hate; not the order, nor the chaos; not the yearning forward, nor the longing back.

I am not competent of giving unlimited love, but I know I can give; neither am I capable of receiving it, but I know I can receive. Within me is a space, so vast no one will ever see it all: not even me, the body the space chose. Within the space, suns that are never seen but through the glow of pale, cold moons.

I am not able to fall in love; but will all these negatives with time turn into positives? I am not worthy of my own affection, nor my despise: I am not worthy of me, others even less. I cannot give myself to anyone, for I'd be lost. I have a feeling this end will be uneven.

How can truth be demanded when no one knows? How can I say: I did not lie to you, or hide me from you, when I do not know the space within? I am only a child, and I will never grow up. Growing up is dying, but so is staying. And I say I am not afraid of death, for it touches me not; but how do I know, when death might kiss my feet, already tonight?

And let this be my answer: I am not what you think I am. I have not fallen for you, for I won't let my world fall; and even if it would, it would not be for you. One day, I might grow; one day, I might find I've lived for eternity and found my way around space; one day, I might be capable; and one day, I might fall: but not today, and never for you. Not in this lifetime.




What I believe is what I know, for all the knowledge I have about myself is nought but guesses; and it is the best I can give, and it is the best you will get.