For You

 

For You

 

 

I thought I moved on. I sincerely believed I did and could. But somehow you still linger and yet I cannot find a reason why it is so; for we shared so little, almost nothing. But you managed to graze my memories, some how deepening the wound that you so capriciously left. The truth is I cannot say that it is love nor can I deny that it is because I don’t know what it truly was and still is. And I have no bitterness towards you for I cannot hate you, in some strange way I declare that my feelings are unconditional and have aged to become less impassioned and more lucid in their purity. There are no utterances for me to declare, nothing that could describe all that you have come to signify, all that you have come to be.

 

Yet, despite your liaison with darkness I still see in you the light that I have always felt to be there and so you remain to me that fragile creature marred by circumstance and lack of good judgement. You do not know who you are, enveloped in the catacomb self inflicted by the very virtue of your nature. Perhaps, you may learn the truth of who you are when you are freed from your chamber just as likely as you are to be forever in darkness. And I see the sadness in your eyes, I can see the shadow lurking over you that has brought with it the burden of guilt. And I wish I could help you, set you free and salve your pain but I cannot.

 

However, I do not wish to be with you, there is nothing that could bring us to that path, it has been stricken from our destinies and therefore from mine own desires. And I do not know what you see when you look upon my face or dwell in the centre of my eyes but I do know that I can see your battered soul and the torment that you must now face. Perhaps, my view exaggerates your position, perhaps you are merry and want nothing more from life; so then I will want those things for you. And if you receive clarity or should we cross paths once more in another life maybe we will discover our fears and inner turmoil have far less potency than that which is ours.

 

Now, I await patiently the news of your betrothal; the end of your dreams and to an extent mine; for you were and are mine in fantasy alone. And if you escape I pray you will not once again make, that blunder; finding instead, that which will fulfil you.

 

I will remember you always and never forget this, this inexplicable force that motivates an unknown facet of myself. For everything happens when it should, we both become victims of an uncontrollable world; two that can only integrate with a larger scheme. I do not pretend that you care that I have written this, that I feel whatever this may be called, but for one minute I will pretend you do. And so in placing you in a conundrum of ambivalent words and phrases I have sealed and yet resolved all I have known of you, all that I have felt for you, all that you have come to symbolize in me.