I am in love.
She came to me in the middle of a grand personal transition.
With confidence and in completeness it was effortless to bask in the level of comfort we gave to each other. And I would do it again even for the same outcome.
She gave me growth, an abilty to individually excel, all while having done nothing but simply be herself.
It has never felt so comfortable to be in the presence of another person.
She did nothing extraordinary other than be.
She is gone however.
She stands with fault.
Her words, her actions. She left for another. She left with no opportunity for me to declare my disposition. My love. My desire.
And perhaps if she did, I ruined it. Or perhaps she never did at all.
With grace, I contemplate how I could’ve been better.
I comtemplate if there is still a way for me to ask for forgiveness. I wonder if there is a way to apologize for what I said when I was at war with myself and projected it on to her.
I stand in a place of deep longing.
I stand in a place of desire.
I stand in a place of loss and hope.
I stand in love and in turmoil with a woman that is complex. She has made her stance clear as she is not present… only in my mind, my dreams, my desires.
One day I will find understanding around my innate desire to be hers even though, perhaps, I will never be.
I am conquered.
And it’s unexactly where I want to be.
Her absence speaks loudly; soon I feel my heart will close under the deafening sound of her silence.
I am mine.
And I want her to be mine as well.
Her name is Macyln
- A love letter written and shared because I could harbor it no longer
