Love And A Lot Of Things

A Poem by Andrea Greene

here we go a-rambling I just listened to 3 new musicals so ya boi's on an emotional rOLL LET'S GO

I think the center of my world is loving you

And it connects to everything

Because sometimes I condense loving you into small things

Little moments of affection

And it's good and it's safe and I don't regret it

But it's not the entire story.

Take my hand

For example

My hand in yours as the sun fell over us

Filled our eyes with stars and set the barren grass golden and ablaze

It was magical.

Absolutely magical.

But it was also regret that I hadn't given into your kindness

Because I wanted to feel your hand in mine more than I could from the cold

And yes, I know, you told me so

Time and time again

But if you didn't have your gloves you couldn't feel my hand in yours

And we both would have been sitting there

Hand in hand and unable to feel anything

And it comes back to easy things

Finding one-word answers to how I'm feeling

Dizzy, giddy, content

And losing sight of the things I don't know how to describe

Like the words I can't find for when you would tell a story

And sometimes, without even thinking, you would grasp my hand a little more tightly

The words beyond me for that moment where I vowed to pay attention but you derailed me with good intentions

One small gesture sending me completely speechless

And it's other things still

Like when you're almost nearby

And I'm waiting, knowing I've got no reason to be,

But my heart pounds and my breath catches for the millionth time and

In a breathless stupor the only word I have is

Why

Why is it you still induce me to wringing my hands

To sweaty palms and shifting, starry eyes

Stealing my attention rather inconsiderately

And it is so many things I don't understand

Like the concept of even loving you

Of falling in love with you

Of the day-to-day epiphany of I've fallen in love with you

That I know, and have come to terms with

And such a good thing is here almost lurking in the back of my mind

As if waiting for a followup

I love you, I do very much

But I'm scared of it too

I hate to bring up past experience

When you seem to beckon to the future

And just as suddenly send me jerking to the past

Because, and again, I hate to mention it

But I thought I loved him

I may have, in all honesty

But ten months of thinking of you and loving him didn't make for something good

And I cut it off but something drew me to you even then

So I'm scared of loving you because it feels different

I feel closer to you, and more like myself,

Like I'm even allowed to be myself-

We've been in the same boat for three years,

You could have been my partner in crime if I hadn't gone and fallen in love with you

But I'm scared of how genuinely I love you

Because it would hurt twice as much to lose you

Which I never intend to do

But the first time I loved I had starry eyes

And ten months later they had dulled and I broke it off

And you've got a look of affection in your eyes that gives me chills

Because of how strange it seems that you should love me

And because I know I bore the same look and

I hope these similarities aren't applicable to mistakes

And it doesn't end there,

It comes also with telling you this,

And I can only hope that you're thinking it isn't true, that I could ever let you go

But that's ridiculous because you have no earthly reason to continue holding my hand

And heaven only knows how much you may or may not love me

But if we're on two separate wavelengths, so to speak,

Of how we love and how much we know about love and if we know how to love,

Then that makes things far more fragile than I'd like

But I try.

I try to tell myself good things because

If you don't love yourself, nobody else will love you,

So they say and I really hope

Nothing they say is true.

And it's dangerous being this dependent on loving you

But it's genuine and I don't feel connected to anything this much

Again, it comes with the price of

To tell you or not to tell you

That is the fear behind all of my actions

Whether they seem as calculated as they are

Because I don't want to be painted as desperate

Because that's sad and cliché and so far from what I am

But I don't know what I am.

Other than yours.

I think that's one reason why love becomes such a part of my life

Because it's having some sort of sure identity

Whether it's good or bad, it's being yours

But this is different still from being anybody's

Because I'm yours, but I don't feel as much like an accessory.

Not to paint the picture incorrectly or to discredit his name and intentions,

But I let being his define me,

And that was horrible for me,

And I'm scared of doing that again,

And I'm scared of opening up my chest

And putting my heart out for you to examine,

But at the same time I'm scared of shutting myself in

When I first vowed, the day I knew for sure I was in love with you,

In spite of condemning myself to your being out of reach,

When I had vowed that if I could love you I would open you up to the world.

And was that a mistake sprung from the youth and blindness of love?

Because the world is war-torn and sick and oppressive and

I wanted to give you the goodness in the world

But I don't even know what real goodness is

Because we use thin veils of "goodness" to hide what is cruel and wrong with the world

And I should have realized even then that the goodness I swore to provide you was already in you

And maybe I've opened doors you'd prefer closed

But I wouldn't know, I couldn't know that,
Perhaps I shouldn't know,

And I'm sorry.

I'm really very sorry for trying to bring you happiness when I don't know how to.

But the genuine goodness, hard as it is to identify it nowadays,

Is not to be lost on our connection.

Sometimes I am removed from my fear of loving you too much or not enough,

And it is by you.

By your stories and your laughter and your beautiful, exuberant everything,

And the beauty within you that I plead will not go undiscovered

Because it shows, it shows so clearly sometimes

And I want to find the words for it

The words for the deep, beautiful things as opposed to everything I have said,

But I can't.
It looks like I can,

And the words of praise are certainly never empty,

Because it is not to be forgotten that I do love you.

But how to make it mean the things I want it to mean?

I love you.

And I am forever glad you took my hand and sent my heart in motion.

I love you.

And I try to show it in being as careful as I am romantic, though the prudence never shows.

I love you.

Does it show when I try to protect you from what feels like senseless fears of my own?

I love you.

Whatever that means to you, dear heart,

I beg of you to realize you are loved.

And not in a way that suggests a simple nod, or noise of surprise.

I love you.

In the deepest way, and whether I am scared of it or not,

Whether I am trying harder than necessary or not saying what I should say,

I love you.

And perhaps I find the simple words that try to convey everything,

Perhaps I find them now because I have said everything and realize it can be summarized,

Though I do not dare to put it out so simply for fear of meaning lost,

The words are plain, and laden.

I love you.

And I always will.

Author's Note

guess who didn't proofread any of this,,, me. Guess who's also going to probably attempt to ignore this mess as long as possible? Me! Guess who's also using superficial language in their author's note to cover up the fact that they don't know what they're feeling even though they physically feel like a ship shattering against boulders in a storm? Haha me! Comments are appreciated, please don't rip me to shreds too much thanks

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Reviews

Spilt

This is written so beautifully And it really shows you deeply love this person-its amazing how one can person can convey so much emotions in gorgeous words!