What did you think was going to happen?
Love. To say the least, I believed love would find a home between us.
Isn't that what you believed the last time?
Yes. Because I have jars of it, overflowing to parts of me that I doubt I'm in control of. Where am I supposed to take it, if no one ever wants to try with me?
They are cowards. We all are. It seems to good to be true so we find fault and excuses to walk away.
You must keep moving no matter what, I need to you to believe that someday you'll find a well to pour into, and still draw from when you run low.
I doubt I'll make it to the well still alive.