I Could Climb All The Trees in the World And Never . . .

It's funny how, in one moment in time, I thought you were perfect. You gave me wisdom and insight into things I did not know about. Today, I look back and see this as a gradual breaking of my innocence. Your language was something I did not understand. Now I see it for what it is: A tool you merely use to hide your shame and lies and deceit and misunderstandings and fear and loss.

I am sorry, today. I am sorry that I have had to lose someone I've looked up to for so long. I am sorry that you are in such a dark place, seething over lost truths and simple misunderstandings. I am sorry that you do not have the wisdom I have highly associated you with. I am sorry that you are full of sadness and bitterness.

I want to take all those swarming bees around your head and give you lots and lots of honey. That is what you need.

Honey.

Unfortunately that is something only you can make for yourself.

And until you erase condescending judgements, your vitality will weaken.

You will plunder in fear, until you address what is wrong.

You plunder in fears because you do not address what is wrong.


Today I've learned something from you, despite your vindictiveness. I've learned that wisdom does not come with age.

It comes with an open heart, mind, and soul.

I've learned to never fear, for it will probably drive one insane, as it is to you.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that I am losing you.