You’re the first thing my mind recalls when I wake up and the last thing it pauses when I fade into sleep. I’ve never held you, nor have I truly possessed you in any way. At least not yet.
Right now you’re only a longing I can’t extinguish, existing as an idea. I ache for a day when the emotions unchain and release my love for you into the world, raw and vulnerable and powerful. So much is at stake.
I’m unable to confess how enamored I’ve become because others wouldn’t understand. How could they fathom the concept of pouring my heart and soul and aura into something so fragile, so delicate? Especially since you’re incapable of reciprocating what I feel. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing I could see my name on you, written for all to see, etched into your foundation. I’d press you against my chest and revel in the fact you’re mine, and I’d never take you for granted or cast you aside.
My heart drums inside my chest with a desperate prisoner’s determination, each beat a frantic question.
Where do I go from here? Is anyone willing to assist me? What if I choose the wrong door? How do I figure this out? Hello? Are you listening? PAY ATTENTION TO ME!
Eventually, the pummeling impacts my breathing pattern; I press my right hand to the skin and bone above my heart, aiming to force it back if it bursts forth. It’s no use. My pulse rebels whenever it likes: a fact I should be well aware of by now.