Perfection
In the beginning
it all seemed too perfect,
the way we meshed so easily.
As we experienced each other,
through the dark and sad times,
the affection only grew.
During promising and happy times,
our laughter was music.
More time passed
and feelings began to change.
My love grew deeper,
and my attachment to
having you in my life
became permanent.
One a warm summer night
you revealed your feelings,
and they were the same as mine.
Cautious for myself, and hopeful
of my future with you,
I hid what I had previously laid bare.
What I had thought was a passing fad
is still here after years.
You tell me nothing has changed,
and that you will never leave,
but doubts still rattle in my mind,
and The End is always what I fear.
I try to let those fears go,
to move beyond what I have known in the past,
but my history counters all the
love and commitment you display to me.
The more I worry you will leave,
the less of myself I give to you, and
the less I let my true feelings for you show.
You have become quiet lately,
seemingly lost in your own thoughts.
Unlike before,
you don't readily share yourself with me.
I cry at times,
for I miss the way we were before.
Knowing my silence has caused yours,
I try to write,
wondering what to say
to someone who is a part of me.
I begin remembering
the little things you would tell me.
Finally the words began to fill the page.
I write how I felt about you before
I knew that you felt the same.
I wrote about my fears,
and how much I have come to
despise my inability to shed them.
I get to where I am now,
writing and thinking.
Wondering if we were really meant
to be at all.
Memories of your touch
always linger in my mind,
and again I know we are one.
I write this for you,
so nothing can be mistaken.
I write this for you,
because I never meant to hurt you,
like I have been hurt by others.
I write this for you,
because living without you is something
I can not bear to think about.
I write this for you, my love,
so you will know that I do not
take you for granted.
I hear the door open
and your soft voice calling to me.
I hide, what has now become many pages,
from your sight.
You find me on the couch,
where I have spent all day
thinking of you,
writing with tears in my eyes.
You kiss my forehead softly
and I squeeze your hand tight.
The drying tears still on my cheeks,
you ask what is wrong.
Afraid of losing you
for keeping quiet,
I take the pages of
my thoughts and hand them to you.
You look at me questioningly,
and sit in a chair,
slowly reading of my heartache.
I hear the papers rustle,
still lost in my thoughts and the
false sense of hopelessness.
I feel your warm touch on my
tear-streaked cheeks.
You whisper that you don't think
less of me for my fears.
You wrap your arms around me
while telling me that you will never
stop showing how you care.
Tears of shame start to stream
down my face.
Barely able to talk,
I babble of being sorry for
concealing how I truly feel,
simply from the fear of getting
to close to you,
then having you leave.
I turn to face you,
telling you how much I need you,
how much I want to be yours forever,
and you tell me
how much I already am.
You pull me closer,
running your fingers across my cheeks,
wiping away the multitude of tears.
I lean my head on your chest
while you rock me slowly.
"I'm sorry" keeps coming from my lips,
even though you shush me.
You hold me for what seems
like ages.
Slowly we being to talk,
and it lasts for hours.
Unconsciously we hold hands,
our eye contact becomes less sporadic.
I listen to you tell me all
the things you've wanted to
share with me since you
became silent.
I believed there was perfection,
but that I would never find it.
You have proved me wrong,
and I thank you for this.
