For reasons I couldn’t fathom, I found myself inexplicably drawn. It seemed to me that you lived in the eternal present. You held an ocean of secrets tightly balled up in your fists, clutching them protectively against your chest.
There was so much of yourself that you kept hidden.
With you, it was always another subterfuge, another disguise, another donning of a mask. It was all a game of make believe. All I had was a trail of smoke and mirrors, more half truths and unanswered questions.
I found myself stumbling around in the dark, wandering through the endless labyrinth of corridors that resembled the fortress of your mind. My fingertips traced the walls, deciphering the words you left behind, like the cryptic clues of an intricate puzzle. The mystery of you.
The truth is, no matter how close you think you are to someone, you can never really know them. Not unless they decide to let you in, to see their true unguarded selves.