I Love You.

We all have crazy lives. It gets to the point where you stop crying over what is, and loose yourself in the ideas that swirl in your head. The ideas that will help you out. Learn to drive. Drive far away, to a place where you can be somebody. I’m not an author. I’m not a psychologist. I’m not going to pull out the lyrical poetic self confidence crap that is issued and stated so many times by so many people who don’t mean it. You are who you are. That’s the end of it. They tell you to shine. Where’s the light? Find the on switch, then we’ll talk. We don’t know what goes on behind closed doors. Whether these doors are made of wood, or made of the walls that we make, surrounding our hearts and minds, I don’t know. What I do know is, to every door, there is a key. You don’t need this magical fairytale lover to jump off their white horse and give you that key. Its with you. You don’t need to tell the world your issues, but you don’t need to wreck your life in the process of coping. I am here. An ear. Always there to care. To help. You don’t need anybody but yourself, and those who care. Your scars bared or not. Don’t break the fuse of the light, before you ever turned it on.