Purple

I don't think we're all meant for greatness.

I know that I am not, certainly. I twist my body and mind to find a route out-120 pounds search for the answer-but I only come up dry.

You, however, scream greatness!

As I fall farther and farther into mental decay, you manage to pick me up by the shoulders and lead me up from the tunnel through which I am turning.

You stroke my collarbone.

You make me laugh and forget.

Never have I known an atheist to quote the Bible. When I cried that one night you hugged me, kissed my cheek, and only said, "Colossians 3:14."

I took it to mean the verse was open for interpretation. So that's what I did...openly interpret it, that is.

We have sex two weeks later and it is wonderful. I place love over all other virtues and let you see me for who I really am.

Maybe that's why you can tell when I'm lying.

Oh, how I lie!

Nobody has ever been able to see my innate need to justify my thoughts and beliefs with reason- not like you. You could not only tell when I lied, but help me overcome the numerous barriers facing me, weaving the rope I used to crawl into your gaping hands.

And we got in fights, but you were too great to let them affect us.

"You're a hypocrite. Fuck you."

I only cry when faced with the truth.

It was followed three minutes later by, "I'm sorry."

You know me-I think that's the best part. You're not fake and won't hurt me and are a classy person. There are so few people like that left in the world. Everyone else is pretending. Everyone else is pressured.

I know that I'm not meant for anything special, but the more I look into your dark brown eyes, the more I understand my place; I'm one of the lucky ones.

Thank you; I can't wait to see you tomorrow.