Sadness is too weak of a word,
and depression has become so twisted and
misused that, back then, I didn't know
how to classify what I was.
Happiness does not come from another;
it comes from within you.
My walls have always been a dark, unnatural black
that no amount of paint could fix.
Some paints lasted days;
others lasted mere seconds.
Some said it was too soon—too soon to
search again, too soon to leave my comfort behind.
I knew better.
I’d spent so many years in my own head
that even I knew that it could tell me lies sometimes:
using how others feel to guide my actions,
steering my hand through my history as I write it.
Time is a construct formed by man,
and I cared little for it, because I was ready.
Enslaved by a contract that I created,
a contract that lied to me more times than I care to say,
I knew I still had to search.
Perfection is what I sought after.
But I found something better.
Not perfect, no, but extraordinary!
I stumbled upon her in the dead of night,
not truly knowing what perfection was,
and knowing right then,
that perfection wasn't what I was looking for.
I was looking for her.
Anxious and afraid, I persisted,
knowing that if I gave into my fears,
I would never find her or anyone like her again.
Beautiful is an understatement and
more guarded than I.
Yet, I knew
I woke to see my walls covered in gold
It was only a dream that I had seen her in,
but she had woken me from my slumber,
and the beauty within her transformed
my darkness into a passionate fury.
I would spend my whole life searching for her.
White hot passion flowed through me,
and I would never give up this fight for her.
My walls gleam in the moonlight and
burn brighter in the sun's rays.
My happiness was always there inside me.
All it needed was a spark to ignite the fire
that will forever burn within.