To be a friend of mine…

I struggle with it, too. If only you could understand that despite how much I spill, it’s heavily filtered with private ink and paper. When you say it’s too much to talk about, when I’ve only shared two memories, my heart can’t help but sink. I know this can’t last yet again, and I know that it has nothing to do with my humor, my character, nor my dignity, but all to do with the scars that will never unwrinkle to heal.