"do not be afraid", i write with trembling hands. do not be afraid to put your heart out there, trust a friend completely, trust that it's okay to live and breathe each other, trust that they will not leave you, that you both will need and treasure each other completely, equally. trust that the midnight talks will never end. all you want to do is be with each other. it takes effort on both sides. both sides have to let go of themselves - the easiest person to trust - and reach out to hold each other, each trusting that his hands won't be left empty.
You say it will take you time to learn to trust again. I wonder if all this advice is actually meant for myself instead. As we walk I feel my heart keeping guard: a knowing, resigned fear.
(he'll leave anytime
in the blink of an eye he'll walk away
and it will never be the same)
the truth is i'm scared too; i'm scared we're diving deep but you'll climb out as quickly as you got in, while i'm left here. This is when I start planning, preparing, closing off, worrying. Build a raft of people so that even if I fall I don't hit the ground.
Can I really? Can I really withdraw and say I don't need you, that you're not really all I have? Can I learn to detach and be comfortable? Should I get out of this river and look for wading pools now? Can I?