The sweet seduction of Hope
Dear T,
Without you, I am languishing in a half-life that curls around me with skeletal fingers, and I am drowning in a miasma of sickened dreams and shrouded in a pool of inertia. I find it hard to move my life forward, for what if I miss the opportunity to be with you? I have to stay near, lest you change your mind and break up with your girlfriend. I miss your passion, your fire. I miss your sudden and unexpected tenderness, that smile that comes out of nowhere. I miss your cat-like poise, your keen intellect that carefully considers all possibilities with head slightly tilted. I miss your strength. To say "I love you" is to barely cover even a fraction of what I feel. To walk by your side - there is little I wouldn’t give for that. You are beautiful – even when you’re being a cunt.
I know that to detach from experiencing the pain would also be to exclude the beauty of the dizzying joys of being in love. And, having touched the deepest sense of my own vulnerability, I know that it is preferable to risk pain than to never soar into the extremes life has to offer. I would rather experience the crushing lows, having experienced the highest level of love just once. That is surely what living is. To deny one is to never fully appreciate the other, to deny both is to live a life of safety, stagnation, dullness, a world in which you remain blinking in a strange twilight existence, walking amidst shadowy wraiths sent to remind you that you are denying the pulsing fire of life itself.
You. Oh you. Will you ever come back to me? I feel I could wait a lifetime, yet who knows where life will take me. I pray that I may be granted my wish, although I fear the time has long since passed. You have no idea the strength of my love, but here it is, I am spilling my guts, crimson blood seeping into the earth as a sacrifice to God himself/herself. Here I am. And for you I would wait.
Without you, I am languishing in a half-life that curls around me with skeletal fingers, and I am drowning in a miasma of sickened dreams and shrouded in a pool of inertia. I find it hard to move my life forward, for what if I miss the opportunity to be with you? I have to stay near, lest you change your mind and break up with your girlfriend. I miss your passion, your fire. I miss your sudden and unexpected tenderness, that smile that comes out of nowhere. I miss your cat-like poise, your keen intellect that carefully considers all possibilities with head slightly tilted. I miss your strength. To say "I love you" is to barely cover even a fraction of what I feel. To walk by your side - there is little I wouldn’t give for that. You are beautiful – even when you’re being a cunt.
I know that to detach from experiencing the pain would also be to exclude the beauty of the dizzying joys of being in love. And, having touched the deepest sense of my own vulnerability, I know that it is preferable to risk pain than to never soar into the extremes life has to offer. I would rather experience the crushing lows, having experienced the highest level of love just once. That is surely what living is. To deny one is to never fully appreciate the other, to deny both is to live a life of safety, stagnation, dullness, a world in which you remain blinking in a strange twilight existence, walking amidst shadowy wraiths sent to remind you that you are denying the pulsing fire of life itself.
You. Oh you. Will you ever come back to me? I feel I could wait a lifetime, yet who knows where life will take me. I pray that I may be granted my wish, although I fear the time has long since passed. You have no idea the strength of my love, but here it is, I am spilling my guts, crimson blood seeping into the earth as a sacrifice to God himself/herself. Here I am. And for you I would wait.
posted by Anonymous | 1:02 am
Piece of advice: get over it. Otherwise, you'll just be wasting time waiting for someone who probably doesn't even remember your name.
Yep thanks Gamberro. Somehow it doesn't surprise me you're from fucking Bolton. Retard.
Anyway... It sounds like a spent thing. From here it does. He has a girlfriend. Waiting for or saving yourself for someone who (presumably) is already happy can't be good. Pain is good to contrast the happiness yep, but I think this sounds like infinite pain with zero happiness now. A bit like Kilroy.