This Is Why I'm Here

You get home one night. It's dark out. What are you thinking about?

Maybe it's the jet that just flew overhead, or the surprising warmth of the night air. Maybe it's that stack of homework lying on your desk, or maybe on that special someone you just had to leave again, again, each night waiting an agonizing 8 hours where sleep is no sanctuary from the discomfort caused by their absense.

Maybe you drift into that which is not. Scenarios or stories in which you find yourself in an unending cycle of action and reaction. A zombie invasion or government conspiracy... maybe the driver of that approaching car has other things in mind than his destination. Maybe it's time you started running for your life.

But wait, stop. There's no time for that. Remember the homework? Remember the sleep? As much as you'd like to break free and become who you were meant to be, you are held back by this "reality" which serves as nothing more than a rigid boundary. What do you do? There's nothing to do. Right?

But that's why I come here. That's why I'm not afraid to pour my soul out to you. And that's why if you pour yours out to me, I'll treat it as the most delicate thing in the world.