The Prison House of My Disposition

I think you have so much going for you. You're intelligent and smart. Yes, I know that statement is repetitive. It's warranted because it's true. I wish you believed it. I wish you believed in yourself. You're smarter than most of those around you. You know that much, right? You're just as smart as anyone else too, you know. You could do almost anything you put your mind to. Well, maybe not being a jockey. You'd need to be munchkin sized for that. But you certainly could do more than what you're doing. Your mind is being wasted where it's at. You aren't being able to use it for more than the mundane, and you are not mundane.

You're witty and funny. Your sense of humor makes me happy. I can't help smiling when I'm around you. I light up like a Christmas Tree. Maybe your sense of humor isn't for everyone, but it's perfect for me. I understand you, and you understand me. No one else around here knows exactly when I'm joking and when I'm serious and can play along so well. The more I talk to you the more I want to talk. The rhythm of our conversation flows easily.

You're nice, considerate, and a generally good person. Well, then again, I guess that's not entirely true. While you are always a genuinely good person, (do you know how rare that is, by the way?) you're only nice and considerate to certain people and only when you want to be. But I don't care that you're not always nice to everyone. You've always been nice to me. You've always helped me when I needed it. I actually like that about you. The fact that you're not overly nice to everyone makes it easy to tell when you like someone and when you don't. People know where they stand with you.

I think you're a wonderful, amazing person. I want to shake you and repeat that over and over until you believe it. You should believe it. It's true.

This is what's in my heart for you. This is what I say to you every time I silently walk by.