…I hate it!
This thing in my lungs…
Your face breaks my heart. Your beautiful, beaming smile fills my heart with melancholy. Thoughts of you haunt me, while memories of your smile bring a light blush to my face. They offer me fleeting comfort before plunging me into sadness. I think I love it, and I hate it!
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Sometimes I wish that smile was directed at me. All the women who make you smile inspire hate in my heart. How am I so possessive over a man who does not even know my name? I want to heal your wounds and warm your hands. I want to know the story behind every scar you have. I want to remind you of simple feelings like trust and the loss of time. I want to give you the kind of love I have always wanted to receive. Everything about my feelings for you feels selfish and shameful. I want you to tell me it’s okay… I want you to release me. TELL ME I DISGUST YOU!
This thing in my lungs… I hate it! You breathe something into me, and it shakes my core. I am a proud celibate. I am a proud woman of God. I have given myself to the Lord. So, please! If you care for me one bit, tell me you don’t like me at all. Break my heart. Break my heart!
I can handle a broken heart. I have dealt with a broken heart since before understanding what a heartbreak is. I would rather deal with a broken heart than accept that I love seeing you walk. I love watching you walk. It is so intentional but relaxed. It does not change. I love it. I love hearing you speak. I imagine you calling me baby with my head on your chest. I imagine you calling me baby with your head on my lap. So, why won’t you smile at me more often? Everyone gets to bask in your aura and presence. Am I that bad that I cannot be afforded a moment longer than pleasant greetings?
Heavenly Father, my knees are far too weak! Spare me, oh Lord! The shame of falling at this man’s feet, unable to raise my head or utter a single word.
I am in love with you, you whose name I do not know. Save me. Somehow.
