what's missing?
I loved you.
I had you in me, somehow. A bit of awakening that I couldn't understand on my own, but it was there, swimming inside me. A certainty, a knowledge without explanation, that here was someone, a person, a presence that I needed to be involved with. An experience I needed to have.
You were an opening to me. A beginning, a belief that I wanted to have but had not been able to reach before. I felt your presence stir me. That was what happened when I met you. Not "love at first sight" as they say because it wasn't love at all, what I felt, when I met you. It was curiosity. It was acceptance. I knew we had to intertwine. I didn't care about love or lust or "forever", I just knew a door opened and I should walk through it.
I loved you.
I kept seeing more and more ahead of me with you. You became something to hold onto, look forward to, and be happy for. The experience of "us" grew real and comforting and stretched my thoughts into hopes. My feelings blended with my vision. The experience became essential to my life. I didn't care about disappointment or fear or "security", I just knew life was unfolding and I should pay attention to it.
I loved you.
I gave in, let go, opened up, laid bare and revealed myself, all of myself, to you. It was a gift but it cost so much. I rationalized, debated and agonized over where we were going but I could no more refuse the future than I could refuse to feel. I didn't care about approval, or pride, or "sanctity", I just knew joy beckoned and I should dance my way towards it.
I loved you.
In all that time, my lover, you felt things and saw things that complemented me. You shared yourself with me. You gave yourself to me. Always, though, with reservation. Always with secrets and judgements and diversions to keep me away from the child who shakes inside of you.
My lover, how could you? How could you bring to the stream of renewal and leave me so thirsty? I watched your eyes, when you comforted me, and I saw your veil, your screen, your walls. I saw and I knew what I had bargained into, even as I had believed we waltzed together. Yet you never danced with me, my lover, you only held my hand as I twirled and smiled at my happiness, while your eyes betrayed your fear.
I loved you.
So what did you think of that, my lover? Did you wonder at the fullness of my joy as a child wonders at a drunken revelry? You jumped so cleanly, my lover, from rapture to dismay. You leapt with grace but I thought I saw the footprints you left behind in the dirt of my life. Embedded forever, I thought, with sorrow and regret, but left behind on purpose, to remind me of my loss.
I loved you, but if you ever loved me, I'll never know for sure.
For the strands you wove within my heart were so much of my own making, I am not sure I ever even knew you. I think it was really me all along.
I wish I knew where you were in all that time. It wasn't here.
I had you in me, somehow. A bit of awakening that I couldn't understand on my own, but it was there, swimming inside me. A certainty, a knowledge without explanation, that here was someone, a person, a presence that I needed to be involved with. An experience I needed to have.
You were an opening to me. A beginning, a belief that I wanted to have but had not been able to reach before. I felt your presence stir me. That was what happened when I met you. Not "love at first sight" as they say because it wasn't love at all, what I felt, when I met you. It was curiosity. It was acceptance. I knew we had to intertwine. I didn't care about love or lust or "forever", I just knew a door opened and I should walk through it.
I loved you.
I kept seeing more and more ahead of me with you. You became something to hold onto, look forward to, and be happy for. The experience of "us" grew real and comforting and stretched my thoughts into hopes. My feelings blended with my vision. The experience became essential to my life. I didn't care about disappointment or fear or "security", I just knew life was unfolding and I should pay attention to it.
I loved you.
I gave in, let go, opened up, laid bare and revealed myself, all of myself, to you. It was a gift but it cost so much. I rationalized, debated and agonized over where we were going but I could no more refuse the future than I could refuse to feel. I didn't care about approval, or pride, or "sanctity", I just knew joy beckoned and I should dance my way towards it.
I loved you.
In all that time, my lover, you felt things and saw things that complemented me. You shared yourself with me. You gave yourself to me. Always, though, with reservation. Always with secrets and judgements and diversions to keep me away from the child who shakes inside of you.
My lover, how could you? How could you bring to the stream of renewal and leave me so thirsty? I watched your eyes, when you comforted me, and I saw your veil, your screen, your walls. I saw and I knew what I had bargained into, even as I had believed we waltzed together. Yet you never danced with me, my lover, you only held my hand as I twirled and smiled at my happiness, while your eyes betrayed your fear.
I loved you.
So what did you think of that, my lover? Did you wonder at the fullness of my joy as a child wonders at a drunken revelry? You jumped so cleanly, my lover, from rapture to dismay. You leapt with grace but I thought I saw the footprints you left behind in the dirt of my life. Embedded forever, I thought, with sorrow and regret, but left behind on purpose, to remind me of my loss.
I loved you, but if you ever loved me, I'll never know for sure.
For the strands you wove within my heart were so much of my own making, I am not sure I ever even knew you. I think it was really me all along.
I wish I knew where you were in all that time. It wasn't here.