There was a woman; with a heart as big as the world. And she wished for love, oh, how she needed love. She wished for poems, and music, and art. For nature, and stargazing, and wilderness. For long nights and even longer drives. She wished for a wanderer like herself. Someone who understands. But most of all - someone who loves her the same way she loves him.

Then, there was a man. A man who put his life on hold, to wait for her. A man who straightforwardly told her that she is the thought that gets him through each day. But they were different. Polar opposites. He knew of her wishes and desires and of the things that made her heartstrings flutter; but he didn't understand them. Because he didn't feel them too. And he was sweet, and warm, and safe, and comfortable, and he tried so hard. She adored him - just not in the way he wanted her to.

And then, there was another man. This man was not like the previous man. No, this man made every broken bone inside her body come alive again. This man had an inexplicable thirst for life and everything it had to offer and he cherished every moment of it. He lived in a way that he never feared death. This man made her see colors and showed her the world she used to know in a different light. He held her hand in a matter that no man ever could and no man ever will again. He opened her eyes and brought her back to life. He made her believe again. And the way he said he loves her brought her to tears each time because, for the first time, there were no lies behind those words.

But she knew. Deep down in the pit of her stomach, she knew from the start. If she were ever to leave him, the colors would fade, her hands would grow cold and she would forget what laughter tasted like. And him? He would be fine. He had a thirst for life, not for her. He would move on, possibly without looking back. And that was the problem. Because he was the voice inside her mind, and she was just a thought that crossed his from time to time. And he understood her, by god, he knew her right down to her core, better than anyone else ever has. But he didn't need her in the way she needed him.

Now any logical person would come to the same conclusion: it's always better to be with the man who loves you more than life itself; than with the man who could easily go on as if you had never been a part of his life to begin with.

*But love doesn't run on logic, does it?

with each of them I had endless conversations
that dragged into the night;
there was always common ground
and so many feelings were put to words
in those nights

and with you.
with you I have silence
I have the gentle touch of a hand
as we drink coffee and watch the sunset
from your house on the hilltop

with you I have smiles and lazy afternoons
when we lie next to each other
as I melt to the beat of your heart

with you I have the silent "I love you"
that doesn't need to be said to know it's there,
right there behind every touch

with you I have silence
*and it is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard

having to talk about the weather
with someone who knew
*every inch of your soul

I worry for you, my friend.

You look at the colors
With stars in your eyes,
But you still haven't embraced death
As a part of our lives

You push the happiness
With such certainty
But you forget that darkness
Is also a part of reality

I worry that you have forced
Your contentment too much
And once the high is gone
You will fall and crash

*And I'm not sure if I will be there to catch you.