To you, you know who you are, I love you.
I wish I were as poetic as you.
Then I too could share my feelings.
I sat all day today and thought of you.
I thought of how I'll never need to work for your love.
You won't care if I gain weight,
or stop wearing expensive clothes.
I wonder if I'm too young.
If I'll wrong you in the future.
I worry about my family taking the news.
How is it we find ourselves in these places?
I can't shake the thought of how wonderful I could make your life.
And how nice that would be.
I hope I can do that for you.
I hope someday to be your blushing bride.
God, how frightening it will be.
How frightening it is.
You make me feel so young.
So naive.
Inadequate.
I never feel this way.
You have such a soft personality, the likes I've never seen.
I could never be mad at you.
But perhaps it is that you would never give me a reason to.
I feel a change in myself.
I see a change in you.
How will I affect you?
Will I know your fate?
Will I aide it?
I've never felt so small.
I'm no longer confident in myself.
No longer am I the high Cleric I once was.
My days of quiet battle are over,
I am now a lowly seer.
How do you feel when you see me in my youth?
In my young clothes and manner?
What do you see?
How do I seem?
I'll never match your wisdom.
As I'll never match your age.
I wonder if I'll tire you.
I wish I had the right words to say.
"What do I mean to you?"
Where to begin?
How do I begin to explain such things?
I wish I knew.
Even if I had your age, your wisdom, your way with words, I could never begin to say.
I wish I could tell you all the ways I appreciate you.
Your kindness.
Your gentle way.
Your love.
It feels so strange when you compliment me.
I feel so young when you talk of your love.
I'll never consider myself your equal.
I'll always place you above I.
But I'll always love you.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
I'm not sure I have the words at this time, but I am very grateful for such raw honesty and passion. It is both endearing and lovely, and makes this poor heart warm in the cold of this world :)
One can sense the love in this, and I will always be grateful for your love as I will always hope you will welcome mine in return.
I wish I had the words.
Sometimes I wish the words would escape me... that way I wouldn't be such a dunce at times. Thanks for your understanding. It means a lot.
I know it is hard for you at the moment to look... I know you are afraid to read these entries again (at least that is what you said to me :) I am too... I see... so much in what you had written to me and I know you have seen so much in what I have written to you... I wonder where the woman who wrote those words is just as I wonder what happened to the man to whom the words were intended... but in the end... are they just words, my love? I don't know :) I suspect I never will.
Post a Comment