Unrequited love.

I have a love, that stays unrequited.
I have a love, that wants to bind, to enclose, to protect.
I have a love, that wishes to set and be set free.

But alone it roams the paths of my mind.

I have an unrequited love that withers and fades and dies,
but before dying it rakes its claws on my insides.

Yet since this love's remains stay inside, I can and I always do resurrect it,
as long as the memories reside, and try to correct it.

But love is like a bridge, and it needs two sides,
both sides solid, carrying care over our life's river tides.

Yet here it is:
My unhinged and uprooted bridge, firm on my side, wallowing, waving free on the other, flaying madly, killing me inside.
I know where it wants to land, but the land just flees.

I strain to hold it in the air, not to crumble not to break.
I strain my back to hold it up, to give time for a return.

But the land on the other side of the bridge stays unstable and distant.

I await and call to it, come closer.

But at some point I know I will have to land my bridge.

Either it will connect the two lost sides, or break and be submerged, its stones lost to the river, its architecture never more.

And though I long for the connection, I prepare myself for the plunge.

For, for too long I have hoped for the connection and I fear I can wait not much longer any more.


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This post and the next one were writen quite some time before I upload them... Things have changed since then. But the represented what I felt.