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If you ask why it’s you, the question itself feels as though it’s placed on the scales of judgment.
It is you because it could only ever be you—a truth sealed with the mark of fate.
In this endless wilderness, where I am with you yet feel utterly alone,
I carry the weight of you and me entirely on my own,
wandering through the forest of doubt and anguish.
To call it loneliness seems far too heavy,
yet to call it hardship denies the deep solitude seeping within.
I waver in this paradox,
standing amidst the endless river of regret.
And yet, amidst it all, I hear your voice.
You call out to me, and I find myself, as though holding a destined answer,
ready to respond to that call.
Even in this sea of confusion and torment,
my heart, without my noticing, seems to have already anchored itself
to the name that is you.
I did not know, yet I knew all along.
Deep within the very core of my soul, the answer to you had already been written. 1 reply
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