I have decided… are not for me.
I am not that person.
So, neither am I sorry, after all.
For letting the words, “I Love You”… slip.
In a whisper, from my lips.
In, to your ear.
For how can you know it, if you do not hear?
How could I love you so, but let it remain unspoken?
Unspoken brings with it, a sense of distress. Unease. At not knowing. Unspoken, is also unheard. And what is unheard, can’t be… believed. But I want to believe. In this crazy thing, called love. I believe, that if faith comes by hearing, then love, being greater than faith, grows by affective declarations. Love is like some sort of religion in itself; it has got to be heard, to be believed. I want believe, but do you? I am a love believer, but are you?
I want you to believe. In love. In me.
It’s been said, that a man loves from the depths, a woman to the heights. I want you to know, I am a man of my word. I want you to set me to course. I want to succeed. I want to love. I want to be free. I want you to come, fly away with me. I want you to reach your greatest point, your highest potential, and never fall below it, again. I want you to do it, because you love yourself, and because you know you are loved, though… not simply because of me. I want you to know that you can be anything you want to be. I want you to know, I will love you while you reach for it, if you fail… and when you try again.
I realize, that you do not know the depths yet, of my affection, nor fully accept, or trust, the color of my sentiment, nor the shade of my rambunctious emotions…
I know you have been trying, to see me. And, let me see you. And I appreciate that. In ways, words cannot say. So I say them with my electric eyes, as you call them. I will try to summarize here, without the back story of my specific failures. But, in me, is a whole range of emotions… if you must know: Anger, that cannot be expressed. Heartbreak, that cannot be heard. From all the times, I didn’t believe in love, or, that it was great. Told myself, to wait. Until it was too late. Or… Jealousy; that another will someday… speak first, what I couldn’t utter. “I love You!”
Love, is all I long to say, to you, but dared not. And I realize, that ultimately, text is a mute thing… And writing, is never really the same as speaking.
So, look into these eyes that charge you. Bring your ears close to my lips, and oh, please… your breasts, close to my chest. Your heart pounding in yours, against mine. Be close to me, and let me, with an eternal whisper, declare 3 things:
Pathos: how I burn with an intense desire for you. How this is fresh to me, and new. And, how I dare to believe the passion; that, this time… it might always be this way. My blood boils over at the thought of you, but not as a person in anger; only an enormous love. I’ve never felt more gentle, than when I am with you. I want my touch, the be the softest thing you’ve ever felt, and the strongest. I am elated, at just a simple text from you, or even just the remote suggestion of your name and person, which drives me deeper into that love; the appalling wonder of such dreadful passion, in that I will always be descending into it’s fathoms.
And whether I close my eyes, or explore, wide eyed; it doesn’t make one bit of difference. I drown at just the thought, of looking into your own, deep-end pools, of size, I cannot judge. So many seas to sail. I want to adventure in them, and I am seized with a passion, that threatens to overtake my ship, my vessel, my entire being, and capsize me.
Logos: I also have this word for you; a speech, a declaration. It is not just passion. In context; there is plenty of intelligence in my choice… to love you. Not merely, emotional, but quite… discerning, in nature. I’ve put a lot of thought, into this. Into the idea, the concept, the reasons for, the choice, of loving you. It concerns me, that you understand; my pathos, my passion, has good cause, and sound judgment. I know why I feel this way.
Why you have my heart: Because yours is more beautiful than anything I could have imagined, only just a short time ago. You are not weak. You are brave. You are not a coward. You are a rock, in a hard place. You have insecurities. But you are secure. I feel safe with you. And you would be both my foundation, and the center of my heart, if I would only but dare, to speak the words, “I Love You”, unafraid, and let you in my door.
The last, but not least, is Ethos: Oh, and it is always my undoing. My own anxieties, they love too… to overcome me. I must answer the question: Is it right? Am I sure? But how can I not be? How can loving you be wrong, when you’re so ridiculously, impossibly loveable? As you say, “Is this real life?” Because, if I choose to trust you with my home; my heart, I choose, daringly, to trust you with a huge part of my life… But, as I get to know you, and you me… I discover:
Your way, suits me.
Your person, agrees with me.
Your mind, pleases me.
Your taste, conforms with mine. And, it’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever tasted.
Your body, fits against mine, together, like a hand fits a glove.
Additionally… I might add. Your legs? They go on forever…… running these amazing shivers up and down my spine, when you rub them against the hairs on mine, giving me goosebumps from your positive charge. And, when I slip my hands between them, your sex drives me a little wonky. I can’t keep my hands of you.
But you already know that.
I almost… can’t accept that you are real; that I have you, there, in my rough, calloused hands, to handle, with care. Could it get any better? I don’t remember anything before, that was, anymore. I don’t think about anyone else. But, I’m still scared. My thoughts, as you know… they often get the better of me, and, I either can’t relax, or, I try to0… ‘hard’… being the key word. And, well, we know what happens next. Ha ha.
But… I realize, this is just the beginning of our love making. And it can only get better, and better, with practice and laughter… and the soft assurances you whisper to me, after.
Your voice… is the tenor of my soul.
So, ahem, back to it, then!
I realize… what really frightens me the most, is: I have discovered, while it’s only our beginning, already, I can’t remember a time, when you weren’t in my present. And I can’t imagine, a future, without you. And the anxiety I am having now, is not… who is this person, or, am I certain this is right? But rather… who would I be, without her? And… IS there even a ME, without HER, anymore? Because… I become me again, through you. And I realize, every challenge I have put myself through this past year, was so that I could even be a pale impression of the man you deserve. I would happily spend the rest of my life, bringing more color to yours. I have let down my defenses, and opened a door. And, I cannot close it. You are inside, and a part of me, already.
So, the story goes: The awful ethos. Unwilling, in the onset, to let the feeling fly. For it must first rise to question, and search my heart, for lies. It’s job is to persecute romantic, passionate pathos… leaving noble logos to remain, unspoken. But for all ethos’ concerns, I know it means well; ethos too, is noble, and deserves it’s place, among the ranks, of my heart. It does well, to ask me the important questions. It helped me find the answers I needed.
Oh; the alluring, but agonizing glances, of potentialities, of unspoken words. I know, that it’s only been a short time. But I cannot be quiet anymore. I’ve felt your heart. So, please don’t be afraid. You said it was okay. But please believe, it is. It’s okay. I can love you.
The words I said to you; the words I said, those words… are powerful. But, not fragile. They are strong. So, if you will agree, to dispense with the method, and the proprietary… and NOT run away, unless… it is with me. To Montreal. To Paris. To New Zealand, or to Italy. I don’t care where, or when it might be. So long as we consummate those words, this feeling.
I want to be inside you. Feel you against me, always. And… I want to let you know me, at my deepest.
Please, lessen my worries, with the thought that you know, that I want this. Have this. Feeling. For you. And, that I’m not afraid, to have it. Or say so. Let me say. Calm the fray. The screaming curse, of silence. It’s just absurd, that I not tell you. If I don’t, I will die, inside. And then you’ll never know:
Pathos, Logos, Ethos.
Questions become answers. But now, I know. Without question, I long… to love you. I am Romeo. And you are my Juliet. And there is no such thing, as ‘not the right time yet’.
Unspoken words… are not for me. I am not afraid. I want to live again. I want you. I lust you. I adore you. I miss you. Every moment. Every part.
I may be crazy. Maybe. But… you’re beautiful.
I love you.