Little heart

I hate to be the witness of your pain, I hate to see the tears running down your face, to know that nothing I say or do can make you feel better right now. I know what you feel, the deseption of knowing there is no ambar eye angel to save us from this solitude. We are mortal after all and nothing more. I can't force you to talk, I can't. When you are ready I'll be here for you to hear all of it. To say what you need to hear, but only when you are ready.
Don't think to much about it, don't let you head and your heart loose their tracks. You can't loose yourself. Go on little one. We are here for you.