Depression Is My Kryptonite

Curiosity

I am not pretty and sweet like I sometimes wish to be. I am often tough and rough around the edges. I may not seem soft and delicate, at least not on the outside, but the inside is fragile and it can shatter with a single incorrect touch and that sensitive piece of me will whither away until there are no more sensitive pieces left to overcome the overbearing rage and strength and pure hatred inside of that soft and gentle  shell. I swear too much and nothing seems to be forgotten, even if it were a mistake made years ago when you took one wrong turn down the road. I am warning you now. I am not girly and prissy as most think that I ought to be. I am strong and tough like a feisty warrior. With a heart of tapered glass that has already been broken and forgotten, left rotting and dead and to the wolves behind the shed. I do not forget those times when I have been left to my own crafting skills to fix that shattered thing that I shove back inside with a sharp knife and that must be wounded ever so often to keep it ticking under its thick coating of daggers and barbed wire and electrical fencing that it wears as armor. However you managed to break in unharmed and without harming the fragile and worthless piece that keeps this ship running. How? I have not figured it out. 

My theory is that you've been broken too, that's the only way you could've gotten through. I'm not sure. 

Yet I can tell that there's a difference in you and I. For you are weak on the outside, a broken shell, with an incredibly tough inside. You refuse to accept this strength that you weild, because you believe that all of you is weak and shrill...

To be honest that gives me quite a thrill.

Not sure why yet. Perhaps it's because we are the opposite yet still very much alike.

How are two people on opposite sides of the "Broken" spectrum so different and yet the same? How do they love without shame. How do they do pretty much anything? 

I'm curious... if you can't tell...