Don't do this to me again

My love is infinite...
My love is real...
So very very real...


For the most part I the last 3 years my heart had fallen int this numb state. There was nothing that could make its stone body move. It was solidified in its cold walls and I couldn't feel anything anymore. Until that night. You kissed me so softly with such a gentle tender touch that it ignited a fire in my chest and for the first time in what seemed like forever, I felt something. It was almost like it was a taboo. Something I Couldn't look at right away or it would disappear just as quick as it had been made.

Valentines day...you sat across that wooden table as we sat there by the window. Without seeing each other for a few days, the excitement was there, but we didn't talk about the things we already knew. Dinner was perfect, and so was watching Ryan Leslie perform. I took you to the bar to give you a piece of your home. As we sat there I realized how much I want you. Want you to be mine, just mine, just as much as I want to be yours. I had a creative block and didn't come up with much a gift. But yours was perfect. Remembering things I had almost forgotten. The obvious way to know that you care about me.

4 months in and I wonder why after everything you still need time. I start to reflect on how things were before and just can't do that again. There is a clock that is ticking and I really wish you make your decision before the alarm goes off, because as of right now it seems to be almost at that point.

He texts me every day and calls almost every other day. He sent me flowers to my office for valentines day. It was cliche although I appreciate the thought. He said it was his first valentine he ever sent, and he doesn't know me well enough to send anything meaningful. I have to tell him there is someone. He holds on with hope. He is a sweet person but I'm not using him or stringing him along. Where are the lines drawn when I'm still single?

He mixes me up with his apologizes of past crimes and explains he has to make it up to me. There is nothing to make up when I've moved on. He tells me he misses me and I almost want to feel bad but I don't for what he did. Friendship is as far as I'll take this and when he tells me he misses me, I don't understand in which context he's saying it but when he tells me almost every time he talks to me, I can't even assume. Never assume too much.

There is a love that runs deep in my writing. A love I had almost forgotten. Im trying to restore it back to its former glory. Somewhere inside myself I'm finding it. I'm working so hard and I'm starting to see where it's paying off. I just need to keep making this work and not fall back. I'm trying to make something of what I've been working so hard on. This is a marathon, not a race.

Sometimes Irish. Could decode his silence. But I realize I'm not meant to. He takes care of me in every way and I nurture him to the fullest. There is a component to all of this that works. And I don't bring up what I wish to say, except that one time I was really drunk. But that's a story for another time.

So,e nights you go to sleep next to me and I hear a voice in the back of my head that makes me want to turn to you just as you're about to fall asleep and whisper, "I love you" but I now that would not push yo away. So I keep my thoughts to myself until the day it can all be revealed...that I love you.