Dear lover…

Dear lover,

What do you want from me?

I don’t understand what we’re doing here.

My heart and mind are confused by the constant contradictory push and pull of your words and actions.

Do you want me or not?

Well??

It seems like a simple question, yet your answer is always more complicated than the Saturday New York Times crossword puzzle.

We are not new to one another. Not in the expansive philosophical stars and moon sense, nor in the rooted reality of a decades long friendship sense.

Dear lover,

What do you want from me?

In one breath you tell me you’re mine, that you’ve always been mine. But as you exhale, you say you’re committed to another.

You speak of this person like it’s a job you cannot leave. That makes me sad for both of us.

Are you afraid to feel real love? It’s easier to push people away, I know.

I’ve waited for you. I’m still waiting for you.

Am I wasting my time?

Probably.

But, you’re the only one I’ve ever loved.

And you know it.

I ache to know what that kind of love feels like too — from you.

Dear lover,

You say no one has ever loved you as fully as I do. For some reason, that never seems like enough for you.

Why…

Why am I not enough?

What is it?

Do I not have a good enough job? Do I not make enough money?

Maybe I should move on; I’m not sure I can.

How do I give my heart to another when it’s trapped with you?

Dear lover,

We’ve waited so long for one another, or so you said.

Perhaps we were just waiting for different things?

I’ll stay on this ride a little longer, love. After all, I’m already invested.

I suppose only a fool would flit away their best years for someone who cannot (will not) love them with a whole heart. A fool naively thinking if I could just love you a little better then maybe, just maybe, you’d finally take my hand.

Alas, the end will likely play out like a bad romance novel. I’ll end up alone, and you’ll continue miserably going through life with your contractually obligated other and occasionally sneaking away for a late night phone call to tell me how much I am missed.

A scene we’ve acted out a million times.

“Oh, bartender…another round of broken hearts over here, please.”

Dear lover,

What exactly do you want from me?


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