Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash

I love hard, this I know. Why, then, won’t you tell me I’m wrong?

Because maybe I’m not…

But. Even if you catch me, it will not matter how gently, if you decide to let me go- to set me down so your arms are free for another- it will be as if a void has swallowed me. But there would be no other choice, this I also know. If you want what I can’t give you, how could I be okay denying you that?

Now, I can’t get enough of him. Now, I can pretend there is no tomorrow that will take him away from me. A dangerous proposition, for sure. Because I would have to let him go. Because I couldn’t live with myself if choosing me meant he would live with regret. I should be careful, he even warned me. But it was not the right words because how careful can you be when you’re falling, really?!

Can’t I ignore the words I don’t want to hear? He’s making it almost impossible for me to hear them- everything he does is bright and shiny and loud. We all have selective hearing, then, yes?

“Do you really want to know?” He asks.

No. I want to stay right here and love this.

Yes. But then you wouldn’t have had to ask…

See, I didn’t want this. Before he showed up, I was happy with my solitude and my kids. For the first time in forever, I was GOOD.