start here… you and me

Photo by Kalee Prue

Photo “ghost of past” by Kalee Prue

I don’t want to leave you, or myself, behind. When your words are near, my inner smile becomes me. When your body is standing in front of me, my heart shuts down.

Why? I feel you more now that I left, as if a piece of me is still with you. I leave it for you to care about, given freely.

Hold me now, I ask you, because I can’t hold myself in this way. Why would I want to take the place of your arms around me, pieces of us touching, filling gaps sensing all at once? How could I ever be without you after having you?

You come to me in my dream, my seed (you are), and I’m special. I’m the one you’d do that for. Our secret. And we are the way it should be. How I could not have that, I do not know.

But now, I cannot ask or show you this. I can only sit in my car alone, wait and cry over my missed opportunity. My closed heart—again, protecting itself, ego on guard standing tall against its tears. (When you’re in front of me, I want for you to be the one to say what I dream, as if I transfer my dream to you, and now it’s heard).

Instead, I walk away, and so do you, words uttered yet unheard. Too vulnerable to ask simple questions in person: Will you be with me? Can I have you?

With anticipation of us, your playfulness shining, I’m open and there. I’m ready for you. I’m ready for us. I have you. And now you’re gone… I want you more now than I imagined I could.

Here in this moment, I feel your eyes and you are hurting too, voice silenced but saying No somehow, not allowing us to be.

And now I feel that I am the one who won’t allow us to be. I can’t look into your eyes easily now as we did that first day, when we knew the mirror looking back was us. I want to hold you now with my eyes closed and just know that we both remember how it started and why.

I’m scared to even look now to see if you’re there, to see you watching me waiting for you, tears in my eyes like a cloud covering my heart, drowning instead…

The raw words that speak now tell me that I missed my chance to have you; I’m wishing you wanted me too, and wondering why you don’t. And, if I’m wrong and you do, I wonder if it’s my fault that you don’t come running, and my fault that you cannot feel me now. Do I block my heart from you?

I wonder what I have done wrong and how I can tell you so you know who I am. Without this,  I’m reaching out for something that isn’t there, or isn’t possible, where you are waiting for me to just let down my guard.

And next, I hear you tell me (in my mind), “Don’t you understand how much I want you?” (but it seems like a dream.)

If we have to start somewhere, let’s start here.

© r.e.l. 7/17/14

Published on Rebelle Society 11.12.14

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