Ugly

We're the same, you and I. Flawed in the same way. Strong in the same way. Disappointed in each other. Wary. Hurt. The similarities are striking, and yet the chasm between us only grows wider, and deeper and more impossible to cross. I need a map to reach you. And a method that hasn't been invented yet.

I cannot think of you without pain and bitterness. I cannot think of you without feeling disappointed in myself. I have failed in so many ways when it comes to you, and my good intentions never materialise into anything constructive. It's so easy to take you for granted, and to take my duty and obligation lightly - in fact, to ignore it altogether. I cannot think of you without pain, because when I think of you, all I am reminded of is the person that I am. Someone who I could never be proud of.

How did I get here? Who am I? The face I show you is so different from the face I show the rest of the world. There is more truth and more ugliness in what you see. Could it be that my true colours are only revealed to you? That scares me most of all. If those are my true colours, they are ugly indeed.

I can only appreciate you when you are far away. In your presence my claws come out, and my defensive and offensive sides polish their swords ready to do battle. Ready to strike before you do. Because only you know where it hurts most, and your aim is unerring and unforgiving.

When we're apart I yearn to be better. I believe I can be better. But then when we are together I am weighed by the truth that I never will be.