The wind blows and the clatter sound of leaves fades to the soft shush but if I listen closely I hear the
Of leaf against leaf
Close in it must sound like a war
But in this distance
It’s only beauty
The rain falls and the pound of drops fades to the white noise which lulls so many to sleep but if I listen closely the
Of drops slamming into the ground at 9.8 meters per second per second
Close in sounds like a battle
But safe in my bed
It’s only dreams
Her voice sings and the tones that, in unfamiliarity say other, fades into the honeyed tones which tug me out of my reverie but if I listen closely the
Of tones bouncing in register
Close in sounds like the other
But in my heart
I hear only love
How do I explain that I hear both at the same time, see the sides and choose which piece to speak on?
But never forgetting that I’ve seen both, I just choose
In a very immediate way, physical intimacy is an outgrowth of emotional intimacy. I know that is backwards of how it usually works. And there was a time when I tried to embrace that. But it never really clicked for me.
It’s a high then a crash to nothing. Fun in the moment, but we(writers/poets) don’t live in the moment. We live in the vastness of our minds. Exploring our lives and emotions. Coming to the surface to give this found secret to the world.
If I am emotionally connected, then there is a moment in my lovers eyes, an echo of that discovery, of that perfect moment of vulnerability and hope that takes me beyond the shores of physical pleasure. To a place of the mind. Taking them with me into my heart.
Maybe that is scary. To think that way. Or be thought of that way. Fear, this kind of fear, has always been an indication that I am doing something right.
Afraid , emotional and vulnerable. Thinks too much, cares too much. Broken and mending. Practiced and fumbling.
I am all of these things. But, if I love you, it will always be so. And though we may be parted, I will always carry you, my love for you, in my heart.
I would rather be near you than be far
To be inside you, exploring the world
To feel you around me, to press fingers and tongue
I need to be inside, to share as much space as possible
to feel your heat, for you to feel mine
this need, this desire, to mark you as mine
to demonstrate to the world that you are free
This physical expression is just that
if it is not to be
then I know my thoughts will be curled in your mind
teasing you with the possibility of this life
That there is someone who wants you in ways you can only imagine
who needs you in ways you’ve never dreamed possible
who would delight in your freedom to persue your desires
and help you reach as far as you need to.
My heart whispers to me, “wouldn’t it be amazing if she comes to us today and says ‘I know you have tickets to the Symphony, why didn’t you invite me’
to which we reply ‘You know why. I am in love with you and I can’t be around you without that knowledge. It would be disingenuous of me to ask you to go without you knowing that I want more than just friends. It’s painful to be around you on anything but that. Are you saying you want to explore whether you have or could fall for me?’
then she would say ‘I’m not sure’ uncertainly, and we would reply ‘
what are you not sure of? I can only promise what I did all those months ago. That I will do my level best to not hurt you. That I will always be honest with you. That I will do anything I can to help you in whatever endeavor you choose to give try to. ‘
and she will look at us with hope and say’ that’s what I want’.”
My brain looks at my heart for a long minute as my heart smiles and fidgets with nervous energy. My brain says “Gods love you, that is a beautiful scenario you have there. But you Must know, it’s not going to happen. She doesn’t have the courage to come to us under those circumstances, and she has made it clear as mud that she’s not interested in us in that way.” My heart replies, earnestly, “But it could happen.” To which my brain just shakes his head.
And this is why I wake and my heart hurts. Because it cannot let her go and I love here enough to forgive and move on past nearly anything. It gets easier to bear the pain of not being with her. Of not talking daily, of not being what we were and what we could be. The pain becomes just a part of my daily burden. But my heart still hopes. It is a fool. I’m a fool for having some part of me that thinks this might happen. But that part is beautiful, even if he is a fool.
I talk about love arguably more than I talk about sex. I suppose it’s because when I’m in love and I’m in the relationship, there will be sex. The sex will be good, will be interesting. I take it as a given. I will do my best to make it so and I have the skills to make it so. And I’m always learning more about everything, including sex. Anatomy, what works, what doesn’t. I guess I just assume, and the more I read and listen I learn that is not most people’s experience. At least, even if I am not in a relationship, I know that my lovers had a good time during sex.
Why do I want to forgive every imposition, every hurt, every game, every callous disregard that you inflict? I’ve impaled myself on the blade of your attention. This blood trickles out of the wound.
This pain, and I want to snuggle down next to it. Push the blade deeper if it meant being closer to you. I still want to be yours. I don’t think it will ever happen. But my heart is foolish. It can’t see past our love of you.
My compassion sees you in pain and I just want you to not hurt. My heart wants me to sacrifice, to do something. Say something, what will help you. What will heal you. All at odds with my own well being.
But, some small part of my too logical brain, says if we can help you, we should. My romantic heart and mind say that a world where you are happy is better than a world where I am OK and you are sad. And I know that’s destructive, probably much too far. And yet these are my feelings, these are my thoughts.
And I wish I could say this to you and not seem mad or obsessive. And some small part of my heart hopes that if you did know, then the dam would break and you would love me as I love you.
But these are emotions, and if this life has taught me anything, it’s that what we want, what we desire, is rarely what is offered where others are concerned.
So I sit at this crossroads. Blade buried deep in my heart. Knowing I should move on, logically seeing all of the wounds inflicted. But emotionally not capable of it. Pulled back to her and pulled away. Waiting in this purgatory for her to rescue me, or time passing allow my heart to give up and let me move forward.