Rebuild
Your a devil and I know well, and worse one that Knows me well.
I asked you once so i know you feel you can about half read me well, but for someone opaque like me it is disarming. I feel like an open book.
I plug along at the project that was meant to be ours. Something We could do until there was work to be done, then it became mine. But still i am working on that vision Your a tiny devil in the details, a nagging sadness in the cracks, a whisper between the words but part of the hope somehow.
That Japanese thing, Kintsugi. Quite fitting for a potter really. I look at the chimney pot on Which you used to sit. I sware when it smashed it took our friendship to its final peices. I recently started to try and make something from it and our situation warmed. It feels like if mend it build it into a planter or something we may also transform. I look at it and ignore it, try and Squash down that feeling move past it. Im not sure i want more old even transformed old.
I love you and i am sure you love me too but maybe our broken pieces pack down only to have something new grow in this space.
I will be new, wiser, smarter more knowledgable of myself because of you but maybe not knowing you.