I like very much reading your words smattered upon electronic pages. They show your heart, some of which I’ve seen before and some of which I haven’t. I like seeing the parts you haven’t shown me. They make me smile uncontrollably.
I’m taking it one step at a time and I think I’m getting better from it. If only I could see from two closed eyes, I would be much better off. I can’t seem to find the courage to open them just a bit and finally admit the thing I see when I look in the mirror that is my heart. Though fuzzy and dim-lit it represents you better than anything that you have encountered so far.
It was a funny encounter in the parking lot. You didn’t know you saw me, but you did. You saw a part you probably didn’t imagine existed, but still you didn’t see me and it makes me wonder... what is it exactly that people see when they see you. They see your height, eye color, name brand or lack thereof of the shoes that are currently protecting your feet from the dry dusty earth. But still do they see you.
Do they see your soul and how breakable it is?
Do they see all of the dreams that you have for yourself that are still just dreams, that are too big for you to even let escape from your lips because you are so afraid of failure and never being able to attain them?
Do they see the vastness of the love that you carry around in your heart pocket with you everyday?
Do they know that you just wait for the opportunity to find someone to dole it out to?
Is it too much to ask to meet someone who will say, “ I got you, if you got me. And even when you don’t got me, I still got you.”
Is it too much?
