I did not choose to love you.

I am never sure of anything.
I have questioned and agonized, second guessed
Every aspect of my life
For thirty seven years.
And now I am sure of something
It is an impossible thing
And it shreds me, from within.

We do not choose who we love.

Everything I ever believed
Was a misunderstanding of the true nature
Of all that we aspire to.
Thirty seven years
And I knew nothing.
I am on autopilot, every atom reaching out
Every thirsty cell screaming for a drink of you.

I think you love me, too.