Do not learn from me and stop yourself from teaching me, for we are two different people. All value comes from what I do not know- why you eat collectively, why you spend money on the undeserving, where you learn your mannerisms. All my passion lays in the unknown- everything I do not know, is everything I Love.
You may walk towards restricted directions or drive on dangerous roads and I still take an interest in your ability to be safety. Safety- the condition of being protected becomes your definition, despite watching you climb cliffs known to snap and kill. Who am I to demean your actions, when I would do all the same things myself? Unable to admit the reflection I see in you, who am I to tell you to come home?
Who am I to know any of it- any of the reasons for your perplexing and concealed personality? So taboo to me, I will choose to remain doubtful even if the wind flipped to a fresh, blank page of “You, you, and you”. Even if your bottle floated my way, even if the contained letter was the remainder of “me”, I will choose to look at the sunset. At least I am sure of the evening rays, of the coming nightfall, of being alive- too alive to read your letter.