Dear You
Dear You,
Sometimes I want to say things to you but I don't. Because I'm afraid that something bad will happen and I'll regret it forever and wonder what I should have done and what I'm going to have to do to repair everything. There are so many things you don't hear from me. Sometimes I think you know exactly what I'm thinking and feeling, but sometimes I think you really have no idea.
No idea how much I care about you, how much I want to be with you, how much I do for and because of you, and how much influence you have on my life. But at the same time, it doesn't really matter anyway. Because I have no idea what you are thinking. Sometimes I don't want to know. I often wonder how many times you think about her when you're with me. I wonder about all the things you don't tell me about and I wonder how many of them would bother me. Which also ends up being beside the point.
Because the things I really can never tell you are the things that are the most important. And I can't because you'll think I'm crazy or stupid or both. And maybe I am. But this is my confession. I wonder when you will realize that our lives didn't come together as a fluke chance, and that we are the only ones for each other. Our timing was just a little off. I wonder how you don't see that we fill a place in one another's lives that no one else can even begin to fill. You always know what I need to hear, see, or feel, and you are able to deliver it without effort. I try to do the same for you, but I can only speculate as to how close I come.
I think you really do love me, but habit is leading you astray. You are so used to loving a particular person that you can't seem to fathom how you don't love her anymore. She left you with pain that you often transfer to me with the carelessness she showed you. It is possible to love me, and I think you do. I also think that fear prevents you from seeing things in the correct light. Pain is a strange thing that twists us into shapes that are unrecognizeable. I've been some strange shapes in the past two years, but I'm getting it back.
I hope you get yours back soon. Because I want you to be happy, and I want to be happy. I'm crossing my fingers that I'm right and that you will realize how we were supposed to be here and find each other. I also hope that your heart wakes up before it's too late.
Love,
Me
Sometimes I want to say things to you but I don't. Because I'm afraid that something bad will happen and I'll regret it forever and wonder what I should have done and what I'm going to have to do to repair everything. There are so many things you don't hear from me. Sometimes I think you know exactly what I'm thinking and feeling, but sometimes I think you really have no idea.
No idea how much I care about you, how much I want to be with you, how much I do for and because of you, and how much influence you have on my life. But at the same time, it doesn't really matter anyway. Because I have no idea what you are thinking. Sometimes I don't want to know. I often wonder how many times you think about her when you're with me. I wonder about all the things you don't tell me about and I wonder how many of them would bother me. Which also ends up being beside the point.
Because the things I really can never tell you are the things that are the most important. And I can't because you'll think I'm crazy or stupid or both. And maybe I am. But this is my confession. I wonder when you will realize that our lives didn't come together as a fluke chance, and that we are the only ones for each other. Our timing was just a little off. I wonder how you don't see that we fill a place in one another's lives that no one else can even begin to fill. You always know what I need to hear, see, or feel, and you are able to deliver it without effort. I try to do the same for you, but I can only speculate as to how close I come.
I think you really do love me, but habit is leading you astray. You are so used to loving a particular person that you can't seem to fathom how you don't love her anymore. She left you with pain that you often transfer to me with the carelessness she showed you. It is possible to love me, and I think you do. I also think that fear prevents you from seeing things in the correct light. Pain is a strange thing that twists us into shapes that are unrecognizeable. I've been some strange shapes in the past two years, but I'm getting it back.
I hope you get yours back soon. Because I want you to be happy, and I want to be happy. I'm crossing my fingers that I'm right and that you will realize how we were supposed to be here and find each other. I also hope that your heart wakes up before it's too late.
Love,
Me
posted by Ocean | 11:45 PM
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