hard truths

It’s weird.

You look at someone in the midst of their demons and aching darkness that consumes them, and can’t stop your mental jaunt to what they’re like without it: charismatic and wonderful, full of raw energy and potential that you don’t freely associate with just anyone because not everyone has it–how they could easily build an empire fit for a king with nothing but an honest-to-god dizzying smile and the gift of gab.

You look at that person, and you’d chase starlight with them if they asked.

But they don’t ask for anything, impeded by their self-made obstructions. In spite of the masks they wear like a second skin, there’s no helping someone who doesn’t want it.

Sometimes, leaving someone behind isn’t the worst thing.

The universe is great and beautiful, and our world so small because of it. If it’s worth anything, sooner or later they’ll catch up.