I've Figured It Out!

Hey,

I think I’ve figured it out.

The girl from my German class was dating a guy, although her heart wasn’t;

and guess what, she didn’t tell it to anyone, but me.


Listen, there’s this friend of mine,

everybody thinks that he’s living the life.

And even though he's not,

he tells me that I’m the only one, in whom he’d confide.

And let me tell you, how I do have quite a few people

around me, who surround me, who'd never let me go;

that I’ve figured out that all of them are somewhere crippled,

and how I’m the only audience to their exclusive show.

Yeah, I feel special. Why though?


So, I think I’ve figured it out.

My dad doesn’t ever intrude into my life;

and my mom and I have built such a bond...

well, none of us need to lie.

So, I’m still friends with this three-year-old ex,

and I haven’t confessed

to anyone but her,

that my family still suffocates me a bit and amongst all this transparency,

a lot of things are still blurred.

And if we’ve merely met once, you’d know,

that I’ll often stand at the edge of some tall building,

take a deep breath and adore the view below.

No, I’m not scared of heights, but even the thought of standing there alone,

fracks my veins with fright.

But wait, only he (my best friend, duh!) knows about this. Well, he’s known me for seven years.

And that’s the way it should be,

for, I shouldn’t give people a chance to look cooler than me.


So, let me realize this, that I do have quite a few people

around me, who surround me, whom I’d never let go.

Let me realize that I have a few cracks here and there, nothing fatal.

One is known to him, another to her and god knows.

So yeah, I feel special cause they’re all special to me.

Although, some of you might disagree.


And if you’re still listening, let me tell you a bit more,

cause it has kept me awake at nights, and they say sharing is the cure.

I mean, I can’t tell you why I believe that people are painless.

Maybe it’s just me, who’s un-hurtable.

Maybe it’s the special bond that they share with me,

or is it the one that I share with them, that’s culpable.


I think I’ve figured it out, though.

She didn’t really like him during spring,

and he wasn’t that happy in summer either,

and only I knew of it all.

But there were secrets about her

and him and you and my three-year-old girl

that I became aware of, in fall.

So let me explain it to you, how all the special bonds

and special versions and special parts are equally special to everybody,

and that everybody dwells

in the special bonds and special versions and special parts

that they share with their everybody else.


However,

I haven’t figured out how;

Despite of the normality of this specialness,

I somehow still am the protagonist of my story.

And despite of my comprehending of the situation,

I’m still extremely… extremely special.


I think though…

Let me tell you how I think…

Let me tell you how I have figured it out.


There’s this one part of mine,

it just stands out of the line.

Of which she doesn’t know, of which he doesn’t know either,

nor do they, or them, or him, or her…nope, neither.

It’s commensurate with all the other parts combined.


Its mere presence eliminates every desire of every kind.

To be cheesy, it’s the one to my nine!

Listen, you need to understand that although it completes me, it’s not really mine;

it’s extrinsic, it operates from the outside.

Exceptional, marked, singular, unique, notable, uncommon:

call it whatever you like.

To me, it’s her.

This beautiful girl,

this idiosyncratic soul, distinct from the rest of the world.


And I think I’m going to call this little extra special part of mine,

Love.

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