Loving Him
I can’t convince my Keith that the wars are over. Still, he aches and pains from the misfortunes of loves betrayal. He is still in defense. I wish I could climb inside his mind and nurture the tortured there. I hope to heal his PTSD with the grace of my touch or the stiffness of my voice. I have tried. I can not. I betray him in his thoughts unwillingly yet; I arouse his ability to love past his pain. I wish I knew how to control my powers to ease his anxious heart. My whispers haunt him. “I will not hurt you.” My lies haunt him, and even in his unwillingness to trust ultimately, he is the only man with the decency to love me correctly. He is the only love that I have ever seen myself so clearly in and so clearly with. He is a force. He can grant me peace with the slightest of intentions. He is fever with the smallest touch, and still, there is a glitch in the system of the way that I love him. I am not sure if it was due to the poisons before him or my inability to cleanse it all away, but I am ashamed with myself for being too much of a coward to be on the front lines. It seems I am always playing it safe with him, only giving 100% when skies are clear, and there are no chances of rain in the forecast. Meanwhile, I watch him get soaked for me. I watch him fight the forcing winds and the raging waters to save me, to love me and to keep me. He asked to marry me. He can see us together further in time, and all I can muster is a WHY? Why me, why now, why like this and why in this lifetime. I am so in love, and I am so disgusted with my anger. I sit and ponder his rareness and what the fuck I could’ve possibly done to have him. I am in awe of him. I love who he is. I love who he is with me. I hate who he will become if he thinks he will have to live without me. He is transparent without intention. I so clearly see him when he’s pretending. I see him convincing himself that he is serious, he will go, but is looking for me ever to tell him if he is free. I can bet, if he ever read this, he would ask me how long I’ve known that I’ve had this magic over him. I would reply, since the first time I tried to leave. I could never forget the stains your face left on my heart when I saw you trying to be strong when you were weak. I begged you never to hold it back from me. You tried, but I know you too well. All your colors have shown. I have known you since the beginning of time. I know you even in the past.When I hear your stories, I can tell that you were a bud once, clipped from its roots much too early. I could guess that you were bound to women before me that used you for your benevolence because you are its definition. You are a bright sweet-scented flower, and your beauty enticed them. Their intention was only to possess you without understanding the anatomy of your roots. Selfishly they watched you wither, and there was nothing more they cared to do. I watched you; I watch you still, struggling to sprout your roots again. I hate how they parched you and left you with fear. I hate how you starved yourself of your photosynthesis, your ability to survive. In shame, I was almost her. In the blink of an eye, I could be her I hate that my waters aren’t always pure enough but trust, I will never leave you in drought. I will always water our love, even if these words still confer him with doubt.
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