I can be so heartless but so loyal. I can call you out, but keep your secrets. I keep everything bottled up, but break down. I am the observer. I sit and watch things happen around me. I look at the little details most of the population doesn’t notice.
     How can someone be so heartless? I ask myself. I don’t feel sorry for the ones who don’t deserve sympathy. I don’t feel sorry for the ones who walk in and out of my life. And I don’t feel sorry for those who brought things upon themselves. I feel sorry for the ones who mean the most to me. I feel sorry for the ones who lost what they adore. And I feel sorry for the ones who have no one.
     How can someone be loyal? I keep your secrets to myself, I share them with no one. I stand with someone who I saw at their worst and best. I think of the happiness, even though it may only be temporary. I am the bottled message that floats the sea, looking for it’s reader.
     How can some just sit and observe? I look for the unnoticed things. I search for the adventure that no one finds Instagram-worthy. I find the back roads to drive because I like the muted populations.
     Heartless, loyal and observant are three things that don’t mix well. People see heartlessness, but they don’t stick around to see the loyalty. They see observer, but they take it the wrong way, as if I’m staring. They cause people to take me the wrong way, and that’s where insecurity comes in. But that’s for another message in a bottle.