I Am Afraid Of Her, Afraid Of

I Am Fed Up. I Am Fed Up With Tears And Weakness. But There Isn't Much I Can Do To Stop Them.

But Now I’m Wondering If I Need It Anymore, If We Ever Really Need These Words, “dauntless,” “erudite,” “divergent,” “allegiant,” Or If We Can Just Be Friends Or Lovers Or Siblings, Defined Instead By The Choices We Make And The Love And Loyalty That Binds Us.

I Think About Pressing Myself Against Him, But I Can't, Because All Our Secrets Would Keep A Space Between Us.

Somewhere Inside Me Is A Merciful, Forgiving Person. Somewhere There Is A Girl Who Tries To Understand What People Are Going Through, Who Accepts That People Do Evil Things And That Desperation Leads Them To Darker Places Than They Ever Imagined, I Swear She Exists, And She Hurts For The Repentant Boy I See In Front Of Me. But If I Saw Her, I Wouldn't Recognize Her.

And He’s Right To Say That Every Faction Loses Something When It Gains A Virtue: The Dauntless, Brave But Cruel; The Erudite, Intelligent But Vain; The Amity, Peaceful But Passive; The Candor, Honest But Inconsiderate; The Abnegation, Selfless But Stifling.