And what good does this bring, this absence of heart, this empty feeling? It makes me realize I can make it without you, but I would much rather not. I would much rather see you daily, hear your thoughts, and learn your heart more than you usually let people learn it. But I can’t, and well, I fear you won’t let me. It is because you know that I am hiding something. Perhaps you think it is lack of trust that drives me not to tell you this thing, but I trust you a great deal. This time it’s true when I say, “It isn’t you; it’s me.”
I am still too chicken to do this, to knowingly await this impending judgment. It is the only thing that will occur; I am not stupid.
I am still too unwilling to do this, to risk this thing for such a great uncertainty. I can’t say that this is what I really want; I never desired this thing before.
I am still too cynical to do this, to believe that “love” could be enough this time. Because my love and your love are two different loves, and well if one side fails the whole thing falls apart. And knowing me, I will be the one holding on as you walk quietly away.
People give up far too easily. Why can’t we really mean it when we make promises? Is it too hard? Are we too afraid of the foreseeable hurt that we ditch at the first opportunity to do so? At least that way we won’t have to see it through, to really risk our hearts.
With that said, I promise I will always love you, even if it isn’t the way I wish it could be. Know this, you will always, always have my heart.
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