These gifts you've given me, you've given without even knowing.
Your kind spirit; quiet, soft, gentle, following.
Your confidence; you look to me for guidance, for the soft murmurings of reassurance when you're questioning something.
Your trust; it's not something freely given. It's something that's earned, over time, with experience. From the beginning, I was pulled to you. Your willingness and ever-pleasing heart were hidden under a dark cloud of unknowing. Others saw the fear as negative, I saw it as a reason to reach towards you even more.
I've never had this kind of bond before. I somehow ended up with you, through strange luck and odd situations. Over these years, we've built this language that no one else really gets. It's been silent for the past while now, and the quiet rips me open a little more each day. It's not a peaceful silence, but an eerie, too quiet one. This crack has turned to fissure, soon to be an open canyon. Now I'm the one facing this unknown, history is repeating itself.
