Nobody knows his pain because he covers it with strength. Nobody knows his thoughts because he doesn’t speak about them unless asked. Nobody knows his struggles because he handles them himself. Nobody knows his hurt because he’s environmentally friendly; accentuating the positive for the greater good of society and himself. So he tries, but his dry tears never seem to cry or fall. He’s the beautiful beast behind a guarded wall. And yet he craves intimacy so badly deep inside. He wants a connection to another person this time. But he can’t give it all away like he’s done it before because by letting it go to someone who doesn’t care to relate or empathise he’d be selling himself short. So he stands tall behind his shell while thinking about how life can be such an unfair hell. But he shows you heaven and he gives it away. He’s your hot cup of tea on a rainy fucking day. He’s a charm, he’s a gem, he’s titanium. He’s quiet yet polite and sick of entertaining them. He looks around and sees such waste of all this oxygen diminishing right before his face. Such a bleak existence of vague and superficial while he hopes to collide into the other part of his soul. He’s not lost- in fact he’s closer to himself than many here who dwell. He’s just so fucking sick and tired of reserving in his shell. Free him but only if your heart is good. Don’t try to be him or make this about you. This strong soul is getting tired and he needs a piece of you.