Too is a finite word. A horrible word. A word that makes me cringe when I hear people say it to me. It can be used for good, but it has never been used for good around me. No one has every said “Oh you’re too good.” And even if they did, would that be a good thing? You are too much of something. And most of the time it’s “too depressed”, “too needy”, “too much work”.
It’s 3 a.m. I’m still awake. I’m losing sleep. I’m losing myself.
I’m losing you.
So I write tonight. I write for everyone of us who has suffered. Every one of us who is broken. Every one of us who has a damaged soul. Every one of us whose brilliant scarlet became just another red.
This is for us, the broken ones.
And for the ones who broke us in two.