Please Know, I Love You
I'm here, on my knees ~ begging you to please just let me forget you.
Lately you have been with me more than not, I've heard your voice and felt your touch and, baby, I have missed you. Maybe I miss how you loved me, how you cared for me, how you watched out for me ~ I might be scared that no one else ever will. I miss how we were such good friends more than anything else, I miss it because I loved it. Because I loved it so it hurt. It hurt os bad and now I'm scared to death of her ~ she has so quickly become such a good friend. I find myself smiling at your memory ~ alone in my car, crying into your soft t-shirt ~ without you in my bed. My eyes don't focus, like rain everywhere. What am I saying? Who am I? I don't know anything ~ I mean. There are things that I have figured out, like seeing everything with such clarity that I feel almost drunk with it and I have to blink my eyes. Then there is this, this sick ~ ridiculously sick ~ obsession. This drive to know you not to imagine myself living this life in all it's beauty with you. Raising our daughters, painting our walls with fairies and flowers and rain.
Sitting in the drivers seat, parked and talking to her. She makes me believe I might truly give myself again ~ love without self inflicted restraint. She brings out my smile and she rings in my laugher. Sitting there that night looking over at her and suddenly I wanted to be anywhere but there. I needed to get away from her smile and for my desire to hold her face in my hands and kiss her. I had to forget the stories she gave to me and erase the writings I would give to her. I had to lose this want to be her girlfriend, let it go and never let her think that it could happen. Why? Don't you know? You.
I love what we are, she and I. I love what we have, the fun and the energy. I adore that girl and love having her in my life. What if it was her warmth I became used to in bed at night? What if she were who I cooked diner for and she picked my child up from school? What if we grew to really love each other and we could see the same future ~ oh, oh. What if ~ this thought brings my tears and does burn my eyes ~ she and I were painting our walls with fairies and flowering vines and rain when our doorbell rings? What if I wipe my paint smeared hands on the bottom of her shirt, open my door finding you?
How could I look into her eyes and make her believe that I meant it every time I told her I loved her and that it was love every time I touched her, yet I can not push you away because of an age old mistake which created such a feeling of debt? I would hate myself for making that choice just as I hated myself for not making it last time.
That is insane, Jesus, can't anyone see how fucking crazy that is? I can! It's not even what I want, to be with you I mean ~ I just want to know you, to have you know me. I want you to be so close to me that I can call to cry and you can stop in when you need to feel safe. If it's her ~ oh, dear Lord, if it were her ~ or some other girl, or some other guy, even if it's no one but myself painting my walls and coming to diner ~ I just want it to be in a world where I know you in reality and not in a distorted memory that lives in the haze of sleepy awaking.
I just want you to know that some one still loves you.
I love you.
Lately you have been with me more than not, I've heard your voice and felt your touch and, baby, I have missed you. Maybe I miss how you loved me, how you cared for me, how you watched out for me ~ I might be scared that no one else ever will. I miss how we were such good friends more than anything else, I miss it because I loved it. Because I loved it so it hurt. It hurt os bad and now I'm scared to death of her ~ she has so quickly become such a good friend. I find myself smiling at your memory ~ alone in my car, crying into your soft t-shirt ~ without you in my bed. My eyes don't focus, like rain everywhere. What am I saying? Who am I? I don't know anything ~ I mean. There are things that I have figured out, like seeing everything with such clarity that I feel almost drunk with it and I have to blink my eyes. Then there is this, this sick ~ ridiculously sick ~ obsession. This drive to know you not to imagine myself living this life in all it's beauty with you. Raising our daughters, painting our walls with fairies and flowers and rain.
Sitting in the drivers seat, parked and talking to her. She makes me believe I might truly give myself again ~ love without self inflicted restraint. She brings out my smile and she rings in my laugher. Sitting there that night looking over at her and suddenly I wanted to be anywhere but there. I needed to get away from her smile and for my desire to hold her face in my hands and kiss her. I had to forget the stories she gave to me and erase the writings I would give to her. I had to lose this want to be her girlfriend, let it go and never let her think that it could happen. Why? Don't you know? You.
I love what we are, she and I. I love what we have, the fun and the energy. I adore that girl and love having her in my life. What if it was her warmth I became used to in bed at night? What if she were who I cooked diner for and she picked my child up from school? What if we grew to really love each other and we could see the same future ~ oh, oh. What if ~ this thought brings my tears and does burn my eyes ~ she and I were painting our walls with fairies and flowering vines and rain when our doorbell rings? What if I wipe my paint smeared hands on the bottom of her shirt, open my door finding you?
How could I look into her eyes and make her believe that I meant it every time I told her I loved her and that it was love every time I touched her, yet I can not push you away because of an age old mistake which created such a feeling of debt? I would hate myself for making that choice just as I hated myself for not making it last time.
That is insane, Jesus, can't anyone see how fucking crazy that is? I can! It's not even what I want, to be with you I mean ~ I just want to know you, to have you know me. I want you to be so close to me that I can call to cry and you can stop in when you need to feel safe. If it's her ~ oh, dear Lord, if it were her ~ or some other girl, or some other guy, even if it's no one but myself painting my walls and coming to diner ~ I just want it to be in a world where I know you in reality and not in a distorted memory that lives in the haze of sleepy awaking.
I just want you to know that some one still loves you.
I love you.
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