"and i remember when you sat in front of me all night, repeating those phrases i've heard many times but never believed. paint covered your whole body and ink filled papers layed everywhere around you – most of them torn into pieces for a reason only both of us knew. and even with all that beautiful mess, i couldn't help but notice what hurt me the most; the single tear that rolled down your cheek when you told me how you couldn't paint or even write, that you were such a failure you would get nowhere in life, that no matter how much you tried it just wasn't meant to be. and i remember how you said that maybe, just maybe, you do deserve all of this. but i wish i could've told you – god, if you only knew how much i do – that you were the most beautiful painting yourself, and you didn't need all those papers to tell you that the prettiest lines already existed in your mind and heart. but i didn't, and i still regret not being there for you when i've always been the only one you needed.. i'm sorry." — i had a dream my mirror could speak
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