Roll my way into the Semis 9/09/2007

I miss writing to her
I miss expressing myself in words, on paper.
Sitting down to write to her made me feel alive, In love.
The excitement in giving the words to her,
It was a nervous energy, a calming transfer
a vessel hoping for a warm welcome

I wrote to her so she would have something concrete,
Something real, solid, unwavering.
Something that she could reference when she doubted, or when I was not there.
Something that was an extension of me, in black and white.
A constant light if it grew dark, or foggy.

I remember the feeling of being unable to please her
I remember the pain of not being enough, not meeting her expectations
I remember her not believing my words,
Not trusting my character
I remember the pressure, the confusion of where the pressure was coming from.

I miss the knowing that my love was heard
I don’t miss the feeling of loving her,
As I am unable to stop
I miss the feeling of the two way street.

I miss the times when I knew my love was understood,
That I was understood,
That I was ok
That I was enough
That we were going to make it

I remember the feeling of helplessness,
Of not being able to affect her confidence, her trust,
Of not being smart enough to figure it out
Of the sharp pain of the separation between what I want, and what I couldn’t figure out how to get.

I miss the calm I felt with her, the connection with another human being at a level that was not of the mind
One which I have never felt before.
Will I ever feel that again?

I miss the feeling of peace, of being able to sleep so soundly with her next to me.
I miss the little things, as most people who truly love do; I am not unique in my feelings,
But my feelings are unique.

I think about her as much now as ever,
Love exists whether or not someone receives it,
Love is an internal force that spins for someone else
The wheel doesn’t stop because the loved one stops looking for it.

I hope someday it stops, for the sake of my sanity,
But I know if the wheel stops, so would I.