Maybe there is beauty in not knowing,
in the uncertainty.
Maybe there is beauty in being lost,
in the waiting.
Maybe there is beauty in the fear,
that you will never find me.
I believe in you. I believe in the idea of you. In the possibility of you. I believe that in spite of everything that has happened to me. I might not have found you yet, I might have thought you were someone else and got myself hurt in the process, but I'm not going to give up because of that.
The stained-glass curtain you're hiding behind never lets in the sun.