The Other

It's simple.
"Not him... the other. It's always been the other...."
Why am I just now realizing this when I feel as if I've known forever?

I was just too connected to the idea of love as a whole. My dream with the sketch, the picture, the painting... completing before my eyes and then I blink, the dream proceeds, I realize the paper is blank and the image I saw before my eyes was not the correct one. Everything, everything, EVERYTHING needs to be adjusted.


My best friend's words buzz in my head, like a beehive, an unmanageable mess.
"...old
..............lasting.....
wisdom.....
growth......... you.....
....before....
............without...... this
he...... normal.....
..listen
soul..... follow....
.....worry.... meant.... choose.........
be...... doesn't..... halves... your
before..... many.......
.....................two....
.........it...... heart... time
matter.... lasts.......... dreams......
.....knew.... past.... life.... deep......
same....same....same.....aura..... eyes....whole.. loss
.....comfort.... he... you.... same...... same........... same.....
..............I know who is right for you........
..........Same person."

Just scrambled words.... pieces of my puzzle.
The Other.