You don’t know how to be touched. You don’t know how to be loved. You are lonely and yet you push away anybody who tries to get close. You are a ship going under because you cannot stop pouring water onto your hull. And I am the bucket that will never be big enough to hold all of the drowning in you.
I want to get more comfortable being uncomfortable. I want to get more confident being uncertain. I don’t want to shrink back just because something isn’t easy. I want to push back, and make more room in the area between I can’t and I can.
People come and go. Some are cigarette breaks, others are forest fires.