I have loved you
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I have loved you, and I spent so much time wondering what that meant. For surely, love has to be a sign; an arrow pointing outwards, to something else, the sharp end has to cut both ways not just be stuck in my entrails brooding omens that could never come true.
Love must have consequences, it can’t just sit in me like a ball of fire, that biblical bush that wouldn’t be consumed nor extinguished.
Surely, if I have loved you something must come of it. I need it to signify, to result, but perhaps that’s where I go wrong, perhaps the lesson is that the point of love is love itself;
to burn and burn and be afraid and somehow not turn to ashes.
It is hard to swallow, sorely unsatisfactory. That love should be enough without answers,
outside of morals or justice of things deserved and paid for. Still, I have to accept it will stay inside with those words that clog my throat but cannot be coughed up, painful like a kidney stone that refuses to pass a quarry full of them, pebbles stitched into my stomach,
they roll in me, thunderous with the weight of it all. The unrealized significance, the grumbling hunger…
Enough to suffocate but just short of drowning
Perhaps it’s for the best, this is anything but vague, sharper than a knife’s edge, but still, it may be unspeakable, something that only makes sense sheathed into my mind.
As long as it’s there, there is nothing to fear
It can stay always and I would never bleed out, never turn it against you, both a demand and a threat. It can stay half-unreal, postponed and thus, in some mad way, possible.
For there is grief in fruition, in the rottenness of it, this chimera I have nurtured, it will never walk, never breathe on its own, never see the light of day and knowing would kill it but from within I can keep it warm, never be forced to come to terms… to endure a parting
See, I have loved you, chasing blindly a moving goalpost, deferring meaning into a thousand symbols. All attempts to not be disappointed, to never find or lose you.
And I hated it, the unhinged uncertainty, the rising stakes, the ever-receding tide, the cruel teasing of withheld closure.
I hated it but I preferred it, for it was my one chance to ensure I could love you always..
