Misery is cold. It does not burn. It unsettles the mind and the body. It wraps you and squeezes, continuously. It is heavy. Though you do carry your problems and your responsibilities all the time, misery sits differently. It is a never-ending tiredness. It depletes your will.

Although I’ve had one of the most peaceful moments of my life so far with you, you have a tendency to suddenly freeze me. It happens when you are here, with me, but so out of reach. It happens when you are confused. I think I’m ultimately the cause of the coldest moments, though. When I expect…

It is cold now. It is cold enough to cripple my interest. Not only in you, but also many things around me. It is exhausting, to expect, I mean.

I think I start expecting when I believe that I can reach your soul. And then you fear me, one day later. I get cold. Then you do something I would not expect and drive away the misery. This never-ending loop of convection drives me mad, not the cool kind.

I don’t even know why. There is still magic within your eyes. I put it there, never to touch it again. Your voice is still calming, even with the beer smell in your breath. But not when I’m cold. And now, I’m cold, confused and tired.

I know you are unwell. I am aware of your battles. I know you are afraid. I’m trying to help but your perception is interested in delaying only.

You are a good person.

And I cannot stand seeing you shatter in fear.

I am amazed at a creature who finds disgust in the mirror.

I do not pity you. It is only the love of a transcendental being that I feel for you.

You are a child, an innocent one.

I trust you. You are a good person.