As wise as me

I am hardly quiet with you. I am direct, too much that I come out tactless. Sometimes it works in my favor and you laugh at me. (If only you know that your reaction reminds me of the Master who laughs at me, too.)

I care about what I say and how I say it. I know that I have a problem being straight forward. I can make very small rounds around the bushes. Not for long, though, because I am cocky. I am smart enough to use the exact words that will make myself understood. Ahh. But I fail. I am so different that way. People think more than what I have come to say to them. And that makes them afraid to answer my question. 

Using the exact words with you may get me into trouble. I open your eyes sharply and then I do not know anymore where my words go in you. You must believe that there is no intention to destroy you or to ruin your day. You must forgive but I will not let you tell me off easily.

Because that's what you said I shouldn't do. You said never to give up on you because you will never give up on me. But, of course, you don't remember that. You warned me about this.

I do not like to be misunderstood. No one does, I suppose. You don't, that's for sure.

I like talking, may it be out loud or using social behaviors. I need to risk a lot of things to understand people, most of all you because you chose to be a vehicle. 

Because you said this will make me understand the lessons better. Of course you don't remember that. But, I do. 

And so I do not like to assume that you remember the words you said when I asked you why we do it this way. Or even why I remember a lot of things about us, before us, as clear as day.

What is honest is that I cannot function well when I try to keep inside what I already know. I already know. Yet, I still need to ask why.

I assumed to know why - once, a long time ago - why people are. I failed in that. And so I ran away until I met you. 

And so I like talking because I need to understand what I already know. Why more people are no longer babies.

Just so you know that my son and I are still babies. I am not like them - they are not as wise as me. As you.

I have more than a dozen eyes that look at all the stars in the sky and I know that each one has a name. My job at best is to see their beauty and wonder how can one light be the same as the others. And why the stars still light the evenings of people even if they are taken for granted plenty of times.