This is Nothing Yet

All the things you've put me through are nothing compared to the things I've done to you.

I've been accusing you of my sadness and weakness when you were the one to give me powers when I needed it the most. You've put up with things a normal man would have never put up with. Were caring, loving and never asked anything in return. Now I guess what a fool a human must be to let such a thing go. More than that - to open the door for him and show the way out. Madness. Stupidity.

Why do you always do this to me? How come you've never let me know? Why did you quietly close the door instead of slamming it shut?

Now I pack my things and I've promised to myself - I would never get back till I finally find you, even if takes ages, for you worth it, you worth it all. Will either find or die trying.

I've never seen the dust of roads in you heart, never even dared to ask. But now I will kick away the pride and will search all the roads I know and only going to explore.

Gosh. How weird we are making the ones we love suffer at all! And at the time present the most ridiculous and silly person in the planet is me. If there's a price for the lack of heart and brain - I order you to send it to me straight away, without a slightest hesitation.

All of a sudden there are so many shoulds and musts, which I should and must have done, said or sang to you. But they all seem so worthless when there is no one to say or to sing to. You know, it's like to tell an interesting story when there's no one in the room to listen to it.

You were the most real thing in my entire life. More real than life itself.

And it's not very important that you are not flawless. Or perfect. This way it's better. For I love you against, not for. Or both.

I don't really care that I haven't found you now. Or that you might not know that I'm setting off on a perilous journey, long as life itself, just to find you.

After all, how can you know all these things? It was my dream, not yours.

See you soon.

Sooner than you or I might expect.