u/Inevitable-Boss-6351

I’m mad,

I’ll never say it, but you’ll know I am.

Mad that you don’t talk.

Mad that you don’t communicate.

Mad that you don’t have time.

Mad at you.

I’m sad,

I’ll never say it, but I think you’ll know.

Sad that you don’t talk to me.

Sad that you don’t communicate.

Sad that you don’t have time for me.

Sad because of you.

I’m scared,

I’ll never say it, but I secretly hope you’ll know I am.

Scared that you don’t want to talk to me.

Scared thar you don’t want to communicate.

Scared that you don’t want to spend time with me.

Scared for us.

I’m hurt,

I don’t want to be and you won’t know.

Hurt because we don’t talk.

Hurt because we don’t communicate enough.

Hurt because we don’t spend time together.

Hurt because I care.

Hurt because I love you.

And it’s infuriating,

distressing,

terrifying,

to love someone so much it hurts.

So much everything they do hurts.

So I’m hoping.

Hoping you’ll want to talk to me again.

Hoping you’ll want to communicate with me once more.

Hoping you’ll like spending time with me again.

Hoping that you’ll love me too.

I love you,

I’ll never say it, but I hope you’ll feel it someday.

I lost my booklet.

A booklet that holds all my ideas,

all my thoughts, all my feelings.

A booklet which means so much to me and still I

lost it.

I lost my notebook.

A notebook in which my sentences flow freely, where my words have a mind of their own.

A notebook which is so important to me and still,

I lost it.

I lost my papers.

Papers on which my feelings were displayed for the world to see,

on which I let my own mind run free.

Papers with such significant meaning to me and still I lost

them.

Panic raced through my mind.

What if I’ll never find it again?

What if I’ll never know what I wrote?

What if I’ll never be able to write again?

What if

I’ll lose something as important, as easily as I lost my booklet?

What if I lose you?

After I’ve shown you my ideas, my thoughts, my feelings?

What if I shared my everything, but you disappear

just like

my booklet.

I love you.

I do, truly.

I love your hair, your smile,

your laugh, your eyes,

your lips, your mind,

but

I want to love you for you.

I love you the most when you talk,

about school, work, friends,

about movies, songs, plays,

about the world, science, humans

about you and me, yes

I love you the most when you talk.

And we talked, a lot even,

about all the things that interested you.

The things that interested us.

The things that interested me.

And as I thought we used to talk so much, I realized that you,

talked less than I remember.

I realized that when we talked about school, work, friends,

about movies, songs and plays,

about the world, science, humans,

about you and me,

mainly my

voice was heard through the room.

And as I thought you talked so much about the things you love, I realize that you have been keeping your mouth

shut.

Nodding.

Agreeing.

Looking.

Silence.

I love you, truly I do,

but how can I love the things you love when you don’t talk?

When I don’t know about your thoughts?

About school, work, friends?

About movies, songs, plays?

About the world, science, humans?

About you and me?

How can I know how you feel when you stopped doing the thing I loved you the most for?

I want to know the things you love.

I want to love the things you love.

I want to love you even more.

I want to hear you talk to me again like I remember you did before.

I need to hear you talk to me again.

I need to know how you feel.

About school, work, friends.

About movies, songs, plays.

About the world, science, humans.

About you and me.

And when you talk,

I promise,

I’ll love you for you again. Op

Lust and love

lie side-by-side.

The passion for someone else in two ways,

corporal and spiritual.

Lust and love, a combination not rare,

that’s why they form such a good pair.

But what if one wins over the other, taking the battle upon itself and driving the other into

the ground.

What if the eye only focuses on what it truly sees, not what wants to be seen.

What if she reveals herself, but he only looks at the exposed.

Lust and love,

The other stronger than the one, but the one is devious, knows all the tricks to mock love, to bypass her.

Physically not stronger, but the physical makes it spiritually stronger, the spiritual weaker.

Lust and love,

What do you want? What does he? What does she?

Everyone wants love, that’s easier said than done, because everyone wants everything in different shapes and sizes.

One wants spiritual, the other corporal, but still does the physical win no matter if it gets what it wanted or not.

Lust and love,

a dangerous, but necessary combination.

Without each other they will not grow, with each other only with the unknown balance,

which drives two close ones apart.