I’ve found myself falling again. Or perhaps already fallen.
I’m no stranger to feelings unmatched
Or my love unrequited,
But this time feels different.
I’ve always been possessive in my loving.
I couldn’t separate out the aspect of ownership from the sanctity of adoration,
My knuckles turning white as I grip my phone
Furiously typing “be mine, be mine, please be mine.”
With her I feel safety.
I counter her chaos with calmness.
She meets me with honesty and empathy.
There exists in our exchanges a tenderness I’ve never known.
So when I sleep at night, it is soundly.
The warmth of her body on mine feels almost real
As I imagine my arms wrapped up in hers
And picture the valley of her waist, my thumb running along her side.
When my eyes close, I slip into a reality where her and I are partners
Equally matched in our desire for one another, and our ability to express it.
In my dreams, she arrives ready for a life with me,
And when I wake I am thankful for the moments my subconscious allowed me.
She is not mine to have.
And if I am certain of anything, it is that she will always belong to no one.
So I’ll love her from exactly where I write this, 2000 miles away, without expectation.
And one day I’ll watch her in love, with the knowledge that though she could never be mine -
I am unequivocally hers.