Second. Always second.

Sometimes, I feel like we're doing things you've done before. Going through emotions you've been through before. Walking through a maze you've already figured out and I'm just letting you guide me, hoping that we're taking a different path than you previously did.

But we're walking faster than you walked the first time. Because you know these walls, know these floors, know the sky that spies on us from so far away. You know the twists and turns, so you're going faster, and I'm just following.

And it's fine. Everything is fine and wonderful and good. But then sometimes, I just don't know. I think about it and I just don't know. I feel hurt and sad. That you didn't wait for me.

And then, abruptly, I know I am being ridiculous. Because waiting for a time you didn't know was going to come, for a person you didn't know had ever been born, is ridiculous. That's exactly what it is. So you didn't. And it happened. And you've walked this before. You've found the exit, you've done it all. So what?

So what? So what? These twists and turns. These walls. This floor. That sky. Everything that is familiar to you is foreign to me. And it means so much to me. And it means so much to you. But it meant so much then and it means so much now and I wonder if it only means so much to you because it means so much to me. Because you mean sghadsklghhkl;jepwgkgndkdjg

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

Right?