Worn enough with the wind

It's a pity we're fighting and arguing. I've tried to let it go and give you the space you need, but it's not my thing.

I've learned a few lessons from failed love stories. The spark of the flame to the last ember disappearing into the sky. We tend to let the good things go in search for something better, but the search becomes tired and worn enough with the wind. 

I've learned how breakable life is when love is stripped away by an act of God, misfortune, or the idiocy of an unchartered poor decision. We say I love you a million times to someone who can no longer hear it, but hesitate to say it when they can. Through communication, respect, and honesty we simply bite the bullet, but when we argue, disrespect, and choose to misunderstand, we are putting the entire barrel of the gun in our mouth and hovering over the trigger. It's child's play, weak, and cowardly, and it's really not my style.

I've learned that life is short, but it's the longest thing we have. I cannot waste my time trying to explain myself to people who seem committed to misunderstanding me. Who I am: a whirlpool of compassion; systematic kindness; a gleaming realm of friendship like sun on fresh snow. There when you need me, but as quick as you turn your back on me I'll be gone just the same as a white bird in a blizzard.

So it's a pity we're fighting and arguing, it's really not my kind of thing.