However, I love you and I want to share my life with you. You don’t see how special you are, how you’re the light of my life with your quirky sense of humor, gentle demeanor and sweet touch while you’re stuck, trapped there in the glacier of your emotions.
You are my favorite person, the company I want to keep. Yours is the face I wish to see every day, and the body I want to lay down with every night. Yours is the voice I want to hear, the hugs I want to sink into, and the gaze I wish to hold.
I want to know you, every part of you. I want to know what’s underneath your skin, what makes you tick. I want to have adventures with you, explore the world with you. I want to peek inside your heart and understand the nature of your desire. I want to love you, adore you, hold you, touch you and tell you I’m here. I know, I relate, I understand.
Remember when you read every word I wrote? When you devoured my creativity so much that I literally shined from the inside out feeling that I could do anything? Have you noticed I don’t ask you to read anything anymore?
I desperately want to throw my head back and laugh in your company like I used to years ago, while tucked away in a coffee shop as the snow fell outside. We both said we needed to stay in, get some sleep because we had to be up early the next day, but we couldn't help ourselves. We met up and huddled together with tea at a tiny wooden table talking about the crazy person I encountered at work, your need to live in a place that offers more nature than the big city we currently live in, and the novel I will one day write.
Remember how you reached for me every time we sat down to dinner? Our fingers intertwined, the heat of your body sending electricity through my limbs, the servers always saying “excuse me” so they could set our food down. I used to feel a little embarrassed when you did that, when you reached for me. I was always afraid of what people were thinking, scared of being that sappy couple people rolled their eyes at.
I miss it now. I’d really like to feel you reach for me again. Not only my hand, but for the rest of my body. I want to feel your love for me, not just assume it is present.
Is my desire enough? Or too much for you to take on? I can see you need love and compassion, and I’m willing to give that. I can see that it’s the depression that’s stealing you away from me, from yourself, and forbidding you to get help, but please understand that I don’t know where to go from here.
I know I am to take my focus off of you, off of lack, off of what you’re doing and not doing and simply be here for you without judgment or criticism. This is excruciatingly difficult for my inner parts who want control, security and reassurance that you are in fact here and you love me. Other parts are constantly reaching, constantly trying to make you do things their way, as if they know best, only wanting to see you happy.
As I work on letting go of my desire to change the nature of what is for us right now, we are both free to be exactly as we are. There is more laughter, more hand holding, and more fun. In accepting who you are in this moment, without wanting to change anything, my expectations fall away. I’m able to let go and simply love you for the spectacular person that you are.