Good Lord Christ almighty you scare the crap outta me. I already told you I get nervous every time we get together -- butterflies, cold chills, sweaty palms, palpating heart... It's ridiculous. I left 4th grade behind me eons ago. One would thinksome of that would subside after awhile, wouldn't one? Well.. I may very well get better at sublimating the physical accoutrements of all this.. but the nervous reactions are really only boring their way deeper where you can't see them. The longer I know you, the more scared I get.. and at a much deeper level.
Shouldn't we call that excitement? you ask. Because "nervous" has such a negative connotation - as though something bad is going to happen. My careful answer to you was a quiet query: "Does it matter what you call it if it feels the same?" And valid, I think. But not what I thought first. My first thought, and still, is that "nervous" is something you feel, not only when you fear the worst.. but perhaps when you are certain that whatever it is you're contemplating has imminent potential to be a life-changing event. You are that. Camflouge it, hide it away, scoff, run all you like.. but you have been, are, will be something life-changing for me. I cannot escape it, and I don't know what the changes wrought will be. But I know it in my bones -- whatever becomes of us will change me forever.
You refuse to dally on an insignificant level. Slow, steady, inexorable.... you bore through insousance and frippery. If you decide to love, me, you will LOVE me. There will be no place for insincerity, no place for falsehood, no place for "I misunderstood", no loopholes, no escaping the lovely, enormous, frightening responsibilites in loving someone that way. I will have to step up to the plate and give as good as I get... I can do no less, it is not in me. It will be a commitment greater in magnitude than any I ever contemplated short of motherhood. Exceeding motherhood. FAR exceeding, as children come with a "must care for" tag while adults in theory can function on their own & therefor are easier to abandon. If you decide you do not love me, I cannot write it off casually as another Don Juan affair. I will know in that space in my soul that KNOWS that I was weighed, measured, tasted, spun round ... and found lacking. And where then in my soul in all the world in all the universes will I ever be able to believe in myself again?
And you would be so kind... I could not help but be your friend. Our lives will have entangled... I would smile, provide wry advice, laugh, hold myself in check and together. I would let nothing show in my demeanor or my actions, although my eyes might betray me, and more than one tear would grace a quickly snatched solitary corner. Yet every time I left you I would leave a slice of soul shrieking in some godforsaken wild bitter wilderness.
I am afraid of the golden wilderness.. the butterflies.. the sparkling brooks. I am terrified of the wonder that happens when we are together. The colours that light my sky within, the twinkle that lights my eyes. The warmth that steals across my skin and lights raging fires of passion in my soul. Your look... your smile... your touch... I am undone. I am insignificant, and within that insignificance, I am rebuilt. Reborn. Better, stronger, smarter, swifter, more loving.
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