unfair love

my feelings about the only two girls i have ever loved. not really meant for posting to the public but hey. sort of both a story and a poem.

I'm no poet. I have not the same power over my words. Have no heavenly voice. I know no love songs. I cannot rhyme or think of clever lines. I am no grate lover. Never kissed a girl or held her close. Publicy told her I love her. Or take her on a romantic date to some romantic lake. I cant pay for expensive diamond gifts with huge pay checks. No girl has ever loved me, many don't so much as look and see. After all why would she.

I have loved only twice. Yet I think that may be moor than enough.

My first that beautiful country lass. Her eyes beyond any pathetic description of mine. No music as sweet or art as beautiful . She is the best friend I could ever have.
Hours I cried, shouted, had only her on my mind. Built walls to shield my mind. Just thinking of the next time I might see her, hold her, even daring to dream of the glorious day I might kiss her.

Sadly that kiss was never to leave the walls of my mind.
Weeks it took. I took her to the park, the silent church spires overhead. Free alone. I tell her of my love, of my pain.

“You are an awesome guy.... but”

Told me id find another. Told me some imaginary girl would be made so very happy. Told I could have been an awesome boyfriend for this imaginary girlfriend, a girl who might be mad enough to love me. Told one day I would find that girl and somehow be happy again. All I could think was how I wished it could be her, how that fantasy girl could be this sweet beauty standing before me.

She made her choice and she was happy. We remain friends but sadly nothing moor. Eventually I moved on. Moved house, moved to London, the big city. My mother made promises of such a wonderful place. A place of the theater of the opportunities of the really “helpful” and “nice” Londoners.
She failed to mention the thieves, the mugger, the scores of youths there just to lover you to there pitiful level. The streets crowded stinking of alcohol drugs and piss. Everyone in a hurry, impolite pushy robotic. This big city is tiny. There is no space, you are always watched never, alone never hearing beautiful science or smelling fresh air, never to see England's green and pleasant lands just the over crowded pile of brick and glass, steel and stone.

But in the smoke and cluttered streets was a hidden the rarest of gems. A true beauty, full of energy. I started to smile just because I knew she was near. A beautiful young girl with the wisdom far far beyond her looks. A master of words, scribbling her thoughts and imaginations in ways I could only dream of achieving. Fighting threw her problems and proving her strength. Always there to talk to always with something interesting to say. Always there to help, but seldom lets people help her. Convinced in this world is somehow without color. Seemingly loosing faith in true love, seeing it in the only way i have felt it. The truly invincible beauty in the smoke.

I still do not know why I let it happen. I cant have thought there might be hope, Some chance that she might like me even a fraction as much as I love her. That same dream of that same first kiss. I knew there was no hope, how can you be loved by someone who has given up on there own happiness? How can you tell someone with such a poor self-esteem how good she makes me feel. How she is what keeps my faith in love alive. My mind closed to the idea she might say yes, fighting with my ever hopeful hart. The mind says why would she. The hard saying why not?

The hart will always beet my mind. Call it a weakness if you must but I sometimes with I could block my hart out, ignore it. Lock it in the same walls I use to protect my mind. But its still so strong how could I win. I cannot force myself to do it face to face this time. I hide behind miles of cables, a computer screen and a keyboard. Knowing full well they offer no protection to my frightened heart. I tell her my feelings, I tell them true with a thousand apologies should i have somehow damaged her already brittle heart with those stupid ideas. I wait. I pace the floor not daring to brake my gaze at this screen. She begins to type, my mind racing threw how I might respond. Answering every “what ifs” hows” and “whys”. The text snaps onto the screen.

“You're an awesome guy...............”
 

Reviews

[Ama May Cooper]

I have to disagree with the first few lines, as the potetic verse is obvious and overflowing amongst it. Perhaps place an I before have no heavenly voice, would make it flow slightly better i feel.

*great

The line you have here publicy told her i love her. Its a spelling error but t changes the meaning of the sentance. Not sure on the spelling myself but i assume you mean you've never within others eyes declared love openly. But you cud also mean publicity told her i loved her, as in mere signs in the atmosphere or public rumours told the truth for you.


*more

The country lass verse is painful but beautiful at the same time description calling out from the very pores of the writing. A very heartful dedication where words have failed the author due to a paralysing stunning image that cant be removed from there mind. So sweet and tender in description despite denying the ablity painting a picture of utmost beauty wiht simple thoughts weaving a very clear image of the authers turmoil of the heart.
The dreams of the heart vividly printed very simply but very powerfully a well presented piece

*more
A very truthely piece, presented of raw emotions that in a way spill on the page like ink upon paper soaking it with emotion that cannot be contationed
*theatre
*lower
The big city is tine?
A sorry state, to miss ones orgianl home and feel alone in a new surrounding unsure of settlign feet padding in an uncomfterable envrioment that nolonger feels happy, or full , nolonger enjoyable or worth while. Just moving from place to place but longing to be back home. Beautifully presented the natural hatrid for this foreign world.

Your heartful determintion to get out our point of people's indavdual ideals. A sympathetic but hungry ear, desperation almost folds out for what we want but cannot have. A tender but horrible speech at the same time tears fall upon dry eyes, never feeling the warmth of love. A sensetive piece that picks up on all sides of the emotion, folding an unmapping a story woven with perfect vocuabulary and beautiful imagery.

The hard saying why not?

*heart
*beat

The final paragraph almost deafeatest a testiment to the pain and agony that is nolonger wanted, to the heart crying out to be loved and tenderly held. offered to all but fallen upon a cold and lonely floor.
I really like the hidden behind a computer screen bit the way it seems to suggest some sorta of false security some false sense of secruity that all but doubles the anxiousness the paranoia , the fear of reply or none at all. the truth in a word displayed over a computer screen unsure of true reactions of true words of what will fold.

should i have somehow hurt heart... small error, i assume sentance dosent make sense

The repetiotion works really well here, linking back to the alsmot to seperate storys very well used
Over all a tremendosly heartfelt and emotional piece, flowing well and panning itself out

[Jessica Mai]

This is really touching. you described your past so well. I was captivated. Well done!!