Weak and strong

I have my moments.  Some I’m weak. Some I’m strong.  I prefer to have my weakness alone for I fear what would become of me.  Feeling the comfort and relaxation that comes from another carrying my portion of life’s burdens. I may become dependant upon it. I may search for the ease that once came with that feelinging of solidarity. I prefer to travel alone through the darkness.  That way the only one deemed absolutely necessary for survival is the one who’s always there.  You don’t want to be a crutch here. You don’t even want to be a band aid. I’ll be alright. Who knows how strong I’ll become. 

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