I was lost in our conversations. You sent me pictures of yourself, and at first, I did not believe them. I could not. It went against everything I believed was true, and everything I believed to be false. I didn't trust this fable, this script that was put out in front of me. It took every part of my body not to burn it to ash to watch the flakes of grey flutter to the ground. Nevertheless, this was still a story of intrigue, and thespian art. I could not walk away. I felt I had a duty. I felt.......something. Hurt. Despair. Defectiveness. In that order. Sometimes, all at once. It felt like someone apathetic was gripping my most sensitive entrails in anger, forcing me to give up or die. Giving up is dying. Signing up for the anorexia diet plan.
Then the hold of tears, became the celebration. Then you, became me.