This is the month we met:
You were optimistic. You were ragged. You were the purest and kindest you would ever be.
You had lost a piece of your identity the day she walked away for good.
You were smart and different; I was infatuated by your brain and the way words sounded when you said them.
I didn't understand how anyone could voluntarily walk away from those lips.
When I visited you at your house I was shown a completely different person.
You were far more broken than you had led me to believe.
When you cried to me, I listened.
I let you confide in me, your love for someone else.
When I left I told myself this clearly could not work.
But I had decided that no matter what, I would be there for you.
You had a magnificent soul and I wanted to protect that, even if that meant I was just your friend.