They don’t know it yet

He thought it ironic that he had no problems typing warm and lofty dreams with cold numb fingers.
And how he could feel dark and alone on a warm sunny day, on a crowded beach.
How useless is it that he felt inspired but was unable to create anything artful?
Or that he dreaded the one thing he desired the most?

She found herself wondering where her “friends” were when she most needed them.
And why she felt that no one took her opinions or ideas seriously.
What a waste it was that she was scared to share her beautiful creations.
Or that she settled for what he gave her, and didn’t strive for what she deserved.

He realized that his imperfections were acceptable. He was human after all.
She realized that her insecurities were acceptable. She was human after all.
And I think that maybe, just maybe what he desired the most,
was to strive to be what she deserved.
They were human after all.