Letter to Janus

I cannot live for you, or save you from yourself and them and life. I cannot make everything alright. I used to think I could. My life is mine and it has it's problem too. If you envy it is because you chose and so did I, on different paths. And if I thought the things you put into yourself could make you happy do you think I would ever ask you to stop, if even just to think for a moment before you jump. Have they made you happy? Have they ever? I'm not always happy either, and yes I'm still afraid, but so are you, though I show it more. And at least when I'm happy it's mine and not part of an equation ('add this to me and I'll feel happy'). This isn't an accusation or a call for change. You've already done both in your head, I hear it echoing in the lines of questions where you try to get me to judge you so you can reject my opinion instead of trying to find a way around your own. You know me: I won't judge you. I'll beg and plead with you for the dreams I know you still believe in, all the potential you've never been able to hide, even for the boys you'd hurt if you could keep yourself from caring, but never judge. That's why we are us. Doorways facing opposite directions, you remember. I love you, but then you knew that too.