I Want to Love You, But I Can’t
I want to love you, but I can’t. It must be the medication, the past trauma or the general ennui of getting older. I want to say it’s not my fault but that implies that it’s yours. Because it must be someone’s fault. Some blame God but he is busy doing bigger and better things than fucking with you. It’s not your fault and it’s not my fault. I just want you to know that I want to love you, but I can’t. That’s something, isn’t it?
Sometimes I agree with your views and sometimes I don’t. That seems to be pretty clear and easy to do, especially nowadays. But to me there is clear right and clear wrong. And you’re wrong, a lot. And I can’t love you for it. I just can’t. Someone once said you should love a person for all they are and all they’re not. But I can’t do that; I focus on the negative, and that’s a whole pile of crap and maybe why I can’t love you.
Even if I agree with you there’s little good it does. I still can and will find fault with you. I want to love you though, I really do. But it doesn’t work, it never gets off the ground or if it does it crashes. So it’s best not to bother. I prefer to just sit and watch, look at my toes or yours and maybe utter something like they’re so pretty.
But that doesn’t mean love, because it doesn’t say the same thing. Does it help to say that I want to love you? That I want to want to, at least…
