We were puzzle pieces that fit, really, but we painted different pictures. Now that I think about it, you were an eagle in your eyrie. I was a vulture fascinated with carrion. You were lofty. You were proud. In your own way, you were kind. You were the king of the sky, and although I could comprehend the heights that were a part of your existence, these things did not govern me. I flew on thermal currents in spiraling ascents and descents. You saw far and wide and understood things I saw in passing. Having then the more constant higher vantage, you were easy to be mistaken as cynical. Being involved with the art of fiddling with carrion, I was easily branded as disorderly, weather-minded, graceless.
Chance it was that we met halfway, upon a lone tree above the clouds. Call me sentimental, but wasn't it like yin and yang back then? We complemented each other, but we weren't really meant to be parts of a whole. I dunno, it was a mutual coexistence, but it just wasn't it.
After all this time, you still hold a special place in my heart. I still get awkward around you, but what the heck. Thank you, I guess. For opening up to me. For reaching out. For making me feel happy. For the radical views, which were endearing as much as they were eye-opening. For all the little things.
"I rarely open up to people, and so most of them think I'm a snob, which I partially am, but you have to understand that I'm just shy."
Sometimes I dislike getting sentimental thoughts at dawn, but what the heck.