...a wonderfully delicious warm secret. Among all the broken pieces and the emptiness and patches of murky black, I have this little bit of firey warmth. It's not mine, it doesn't involve me per se. But I sit and tend the flame, getting to stretch in its warmth in return. The sad thing is, to my knowledge, this secret is still being kept as such by the person who told me. And that is rather sad, for it is being hidden from the one person who deserves to know. I want to see this secret's glow spread. I want to be able to watch the people involved and be happy for them. I want everyone around me to be content and loved. Because maybe that way, I can live from their happiness; can use it to fill in the empty spaces. Use it to replace what I lack. At the very least, it's something to marvel and puzzle over, to admire from a distance.