I have days where I pity you; where I want to lift up your lack of empathy and kiss it so you can learn what it's like to feel.
I can hear you thinking. The cogs in your head creak due to their lack of use, and although I am aware that hate comes naturally to you, it still pains me occasionally to watch how much you have to struggle to learn to love. You are not inarticulate, simply reticent.
Every time I watch you try to piece together a sentence, I want to run my fingers through your hair and kiss your forehead for trying to empathize with another human being, but the world does not give rewards for accomplishing what was supposed to be your duty anyway.
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