I wish I was brave enough to tell you everything. To tell you how I feel, how mad I get when these things happen.
I wish you could be happy when I’m happy. I wish you had, at least once, told me a good thing instead of telling me only about the bad risks and outcomes.
I wish you could accept I’m different. That things happen in a slower rhythm with me.
I wish I could share with you all I’m feeling. All these good things I feel. And I wish you show how happy you are for me.
I wish you were not jealous of my success. That you could see the wonderful person I am. That you could know me the way I expected you to.
I want to see you happy. But I have to move on. And you have to do that too.