I admire you, and so this is for you.
You may not be reliable. You may not be worth any of this. I don't know yet. I know that I am not reliable. I can tell you for certain that I am not worth any of it. Yet for some strange reason, I find that you cannot see it. That somehow this obvious reality eludes even you, with such a clever and cunning mind.
All I want to do is protect you from this world and all the dangers in it. Yet, perhaps I am the danger itself and the scarring that is risked by my presence is unknown to you. My love for you is dedicated to hoping the ugliness would somehow surpass you. I am torn. I see all that I am in you and maybe I am being selfish, because somehow, I want the good Evan to live on vicariously through you and leave the rest to my body.
You make me laugh. Those laughs are worth every second of internal confusion I suffer when you are not around. Chaos is synonymous with love to me. I wish it was not like this, but I need it. Love isn't love without the drama.
I may have to disappear to make this alright. I don't want to and with every day, I realize how selfish I am. I've never told you how I really felt, rather I hope you will just guess it and accept it. I want infinitely more time with you. Every conversation is cherished. Every moment is valued. Yet I find myself avoiding what I want most.
We are so different and you know this. But it intrigues you. You are curious if the hybrid of our personalities and values could somehow be combined to make something that is greater than the sum of all parts. I believe it can happen. I want it to be you. I've wanted that since the day I first laid eyes on you.
Only a little longer, and then the path will be clear. I just pray you don't get hurt in the process that is tormenting me daily.
No comments:
Post a Comment