True

I thought once that it was true. I'd talk, and that one would always have to respond. Advice, judgement, anything to hear himself speak. But I thought it was true. Even when I said no, it could still be true.

True is listening. True is there in need. True doesn't always have an answer, but that's OK.

True, I spilled my fucking guts the other night, and I'm still scared because of it, and it hurt to admit how much that one destroyed me. I showed my weakness, and it was actually alright. And in a moment of need, the True friend isn't just conveniently located, but also the first call. It's the best feeling to have.