Crawl

You have such a twisted view on that blood-pumping organ I call a heart.  So twisted, in fact, that mine seemed to forget its purpose.  You see, the mere shock of your thought process led me straight into cardiac arrest.  Or something like that.

I don't understand that one-sided thing you do. You know, the part where you say you disregard everything?  Like the whole universe in non-existant.  Like it isn't staring you in the face.  Except here's the thing: the universe is out to get you.  Do you want to know how I stumbled across that epiphany?  I read the mumbled words you wrote down. 

Oh, I get it.  I probably get it better than you do.  I understand that blank emotion you can't place.  I have that, too.  But there's a difference between you and me.  I work oh-so hard to fix it.  To name it.  To do anything with it.  However, you do absolutely nothing.  I guess you can't even fathom the possibility of not-self-pity.

But it's okay.  Because even though I say I've given up, even though I'm working on pursuing something much greater, I know I'll be back.  Because I'm always back.  And you love that, don't you?