I thought I didn't fit in your life.

Now I see I was right.

I tried so hard to fit in, though.

I'd speak in a smaller voice, just so it could fit in your small ears, just so people outside our small talks wouldn't hear it.

I'd put less expressions in my face, so it could fit in your "small dictionary of reactions I get from other people" you carried, proudly, under your small arms, as you walked around your small city, with your baby steps, being watched by small minds, small people, with small eyes.

I never brought you to the immense complex forest of carnivorous plants my thoughts lived in. 

I thought it would be too much for you to handle. 

You are a person who grew up only seeing, and never touching, beautiful domestic flowers in a garden a hired gardener always took care of, after all..

I was embarrassed of my big voice, my infinite and quite weird facial expressions, the cannibal tribe that ate me up everyday.

I never thought of opening your ears, nor expanding your dictionary, or unfolding that map bigger than your house I kept inside my pocket. 

I thought so little of you I couldn't allow myself to think big of myself.

I tried to minimize my being.

I thought I would fit in your tiny little world by belittling myself.

I didn't fit in your life and you were never big enough for me.

Try to make an elephant catwalk with ant sized high heels on.

I see beauty in both elephant and ant.

I will always admire anthills.

I can spend hours watching ants on their way home, but as soon as I try to follow them I end up smashing them.

Ps.: Elephants and ants were not made to walk with high heels on.