Friendly Fire
Dear You,
I wrote you a letter. I know you read it, but I'm not sure if you read it. You see, I didn't mean everything that I meant to write, but I meant everything that I didn't mean to write. The little bits of truth that crept onto the page and hid between the lines without me knowing. A 'we' disguised as a 'me'. An 'us' crouched behind a 'you'.
I've never had a problem with keeping my emotions on display. Why hide what I feel? I never saw the point. But I've never met anyone like you before, who could wound me with a single glance, or provoke a smile where there wasn't hope for one. My feelings were my armor. Now, in your hands, they have potential to be the weapon that takes my breath away in the best and worst of ways.
The problem is, I'm fairly certain we aren't in the same boat.
Because despite my tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve, no matter how blatantly obvious I am about what's going through my head, or how radically honest I am with you, I feel like I don't get anything back. It's a one sided conversation. At least that's what it feels like sometimes. I don't know what you're waiting for (because we really don't have much time).
Just...
Tell me...
What do I have to do?
Love,
Me
I wrote you a letter. I know you read it, but I'm not sure if you read it. You see, I didn't mean everything that I meant to write, but I meant everything that I didn't mean to write. The little bits of truth that crept onto the page and hid between the lines without me knowing. A 'we' disguised as a 'me'. An 'us' crouched behind a 'you'.
I've never had a problem with keeping my emotions on display. Why hide what I feel? I never saw the point. But I've never met anyone like you before, who could wound me with a single glance, or provoke a smile where there wasn't hope for one. My feelings were my armor. Now, in your hands, they have potential to be the weapon that takes my breath away in the best and worst of ways.
The problem is, I'm fairly certain we aren't in the same boat.
Because despite my tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve, no matter how blatantly obvious I am about what's going through my head, or how radically honest I am with you, I feel like I don't get anything back. It's a one sided conversation. At least that's what it feels like sometimes. I don't know what you're waiting for (because we really don't have much time).
Just...
Tell me...
What do I have to do?
Love,
Me