Paused a netflix movie just to write this,
my eyes are heavy in both sleep and solemnity,
I miss you.
It might seem like I rather do other things,
but that's because I'm scared about when we're alone.
I don't want to disrupt whatever high you've got going.
So I'll write to you-
maybe you'll see this, maybe you'll never look back.
And that is all just okay.
I remember there was a time I just loved you-
fearlessly.
It didn't matter that you didn't trust me
because I was certain one day, all of that will come.
That as long as I loved you unconditionally-
I could show you.
I had so much passion- so much drive,
I was thriving in those moments.
I believed in something that might not ever work
for the sake of belief
I was so deep in love.
It was dream-like.
Somewhere along the line this proof of promise-
converted into fear of loss,
and for some reason, I never was able to make you see.
I don't know maybe you've lost the details in your dark shades.
And while I am dying for that moment you let down
your 200 ft wall,
I'm now aware it might not come.
I'm okay with this.
Because my love for you
is not about what you give to me.
It's about how much I enjoy reminding you
how incredible you really are.
You always seems to forget that- and I don't mind being the one
to show it every single day.
I've been at the end of such a love-
and it's hard to reciprocate unless you really feel it.
So I get it.
It's cool.
I'll just keep loving you.
Because with every day I try to show you-
I show myself how much love I can have,
and despite what you might think,
I'm spectacular.
And I'd love me if I loved me as I much as I loved you.
Admitting this is the first step, I believe,
to letting go
acceptance
that maybe I'm not meant to be loved by you.
But I'll be passionate, still.
I'll be thriving, still.
And I'm still so very deep in love.