I realized today what unconditional love is. I never believed it before, never felt it before. But today I realized. I know what it really means. I know it exists.
Love is not an emotion only for the weak. What I once interpreted as weakness wasn't accurately labeled. Love is not pathetic. It is often artificial and superficial, but on occasion it happens that it's not false. True love takes strength, not weakness. The weak never make it. This is not crawling back; we never left.
It's funny that it took a withering, pale flower to make me realize all of this. It's funny that it was another pale, dying flower that truly officiated this bond. It was the silent requirement that pulled the trigger. Rushing through the nonexistent, relative at best, Time and Space, I've grown to be what I am, which will grow to be more eventually. I want this one to see the bullet that hasn't missed its target yet. It was changing my life so that I could have a future. I will stay in the tangible darkness, the sometimes moonlight, as long as I am wanted there. It's a place I can call my home. As close to beloved destruction as I am going to get, inside and out.

The so-called balance is slowly slipping out of proportion. Things are reversing. The victim, the frail, has become the savior of the strong. The one who means the world to me. The one I couldn't hate if I tried. The one I wouldn't try to hate. It sometimes feels like there is not equality or reciprocity here. But I give all of myself, because this is the one who saved me from myself. The one who took me and did not recreate me with clay or dirt. Instead, painting me with all the colours I could never see. Giving me the ribs to protect the apple intestines. Nothing and everything is grotesque, as though it's a bad thing. Perhaps not always on the same level, perhaps not always understanding one another, but knowing it's not always needed.

I sat in the dying light we call evening, as often enough I do, and realized that it's going to be okay. I will form a future of broken glass and balloons and seahorses and apples and all these things of utmost unimportance that I am made of. It will be beautiful. It will be brilliant. It will be enough. It will be finality in happiness. It will be what I want. Not what I tell myself I want.