As wise as you are and as mad as a hatter, as pushing and pulling, as scared and undisturbed, as unwilling to surrender, to live, to be with me – not able, I believe you dear that unable you may be… You smell like heaven.
And if this is the only thing I can’t deal with right now – it’s not too bad, is it?
It’s that and that I will not open my heart to you when I dance with you – not yet.
As you ever strongly have pulled me in, my love, you ever so consistently, stubbornly, refused me. You held me desperately and you fought to set yourself free as feverishly. You made a space for me in your heart and you made space for the pain of my absence. And I held you, for my life, as I, little by little, let you go, hoping you needed a little bit of both, but no. You needed one or the other, and one it wasn’t, so it was the other.