LOL! I wrote this about this guy I know that really loves me. He's always at a distance, he's an artist, that's the best it seems he can do. :-D He gave my daughter a christmas present then set up his backyard to look just like the little bottle housing her genie brat doll, and then decided to make sure the pic included to pants I bought for my step dad when he won the Lukemia and Lymphoma drawing. I love that picture so I had to put a different one on my desktop just to ensure it wasn't an obsession.
Heres the piece I wrote:
It's like a blanket, pulling me in four separate directions. One way it's pride and stature and the ability to charge ahead through anything. In the other it's justice and freedom, begging me to stand up for myself against anything. Then there's spirituality and love of life and nature, begging me to stop and understand the unseen forces around me. Finally, it's war. War always wins out. It puts every aspect of my soul against one another in a need to be the one ultimate survivor, rather than just tying everything together. In my mind, and through everyone else, it's certain that unity would be better, but that doesn't happen, ever. It's a struggle that leaves me partially dissatisfied in everything I do, unable to forge ahead without worrying that I'll hurt you. And then he sticks out, calling on that one sure line that runs through, through every single part; the need to know the rules. He sees my struggle, watches it for a bit, then calls in that ever slight whisper, it won't work unless you do this. And he's right, and it satisfies my soul, if only for that brief moment, it almost becomes whole. Then all the pieces part once more, begging just for a little bit more. At least he respects our silence, and my diligence, at least he knows how to stand through it all. He doesn't know, there are ways to hide and ways just to come out. Ways to whisper and lure, and even a friendly way to shout. And once again, everything separates and I'm left with that tiny bit of doubt. It's torture on my soul, one ever riening piece of clout.
Lotsa love,
-Wildrose
PS: no worry's, they’re already gently pushing me out. It kills me, but its true, big girls never pout. He's helping me, he's respectful, his name's all over everything, I know eventually it'll iron out.
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