You made me believe it was possible to trust another human being.
Of course the only reason why I've become so cynical of trust,
is simply because i've been broken by constant sorrow,
sorrow that was born from destruction of trust,
all from humans I loved very deeply.
But you are something else entirely.
Not to say that you are the eptiome of perfection,
Because you are not,
but truly who really is?
The point is that you understand why I am the way I am,
to a degree that I have never known.
And to be quick about it,
the depth of which you believe to know me
is admittedly the very tip of the mysterious and mostly submerged ice berg,
but in scope of the bitterness of this life
and shattered and mangled trust,
it is as colossal as the sea.
And I appreciate it dearly.
But I have nothing else to say to you.
And I think this silence that follows says the greatest about us.
Because at the start of this piece,
I said you made me believe,
and not made me know.