I love her.
God be my witness I love her.
I don’t understand her. I don’t know what she wants. I don’t know what I can do to help her.
But I want to be with her. I want to be there when she cries. I want to hug her when she’s sad.
I relate more to sadness than I do happiness. Maybe because of childhood, maybe because of just life happening. That’s just who I think I am.
She’s beautiful, she’s caring, she’s the world I want to love. But she seems distant, detached, cares but not too much. And I can’t stand it. I just can’t stand it.
I wish I knew what to do. I wish I could understand her without my own feelings getting in the way of hers.
Tis a fact of life: love is the hyperstate of logic and emotions, complicated by feelings.
Part of me wants to be infuriated or just plain old upset. It’s just back to the saying: we judge ourselves by our intentions and others by their actions.
Patience I have. Desire to care I hold as much as I want to give. I just wish I knew her.
As cheesy as it sounds, I wish she knew how much I love her.
There’s a balance somewhere but I don’t know where it is.
-Aren