There were diamonds on the ground today. They were teardrops left by a storm. They sparkled in the sunlight, buried in blades of grass. If I collected all those diamonds, would it be enough to bring you back to me? No, of course not. They will evaporate in your pride, dissipate in your worthless dignity, just like everything else you touch. Your self-respect wouldn’t allow you to hold onto something as common as water, anyway. You never knew water was something everyone wants and no one can live without. You found out the hard way that it’s impossible hold water in your hands ; it slips right through your fingers eventually. For a second, you were holding diamonds. Did you know that? Did you know that I’ve been collecting them for you? No, of course you didn’t. I’m begging to give these diamonds back to you. I don’t want to ever see them again. Yes, it stormed for a while, and the diamonds fell to the ground. You’re supposed to catch them, but you didn’t. You ruined the cycle, and now you’ll never take these diamonds back. You’ll never take me back.