You told me you were insane, yet you are the only one who makes sense, the only one to take off your mask and reveal yourself, layer by layer, exposing your veins, your bones. You didn’t care that I might run away or blow your cover.
If I could empathize with you and understand how your mind works, then perhaps we are both loonies.
For what is insanity but a failure to make peace with oneself, with what is? We build a virtual city, create our SIMS, formulate our own Murphy’s laws. Then we opt to stay in a prison of glass.
You wonder why I have endured your soliloquy for weeks on end. The reason is simply this: I was there before. I would have traded everything for an ear that would listen during that crucial period but there was no one. Look, I am here for you.
Now you want me to say something – maybe scream at you, punish you and let the world know you went overboard. I have no right to say anything. I will just continue to listen.
For when you told me what you did, I felt I had done it, too – only in a slightly different way at a different time.