what i am to you is not what you mean to me
i heard so much in everything everyone wasn't saying: there was so much silence between us, so much emptiness to the words in the air. you reveal yourselves, and i am old enough now to know better than asking questions.
you know, and we try to pretend that you don't or that it doesn't matter but there it is. some days i think about explaining it - it's not as simple as you think - but then i know how pointless that is because it won't change what you have already talked yourself into believing.
sometimes i miss you so much i never want to see you again. sometimes i hope i can get far enough away to distance myself from this feeling but i know that it will follow me.
i want to rationalize the way i love you into something benign so that it doesn't haunt me but it resists all attempts to reshape it into something it is not, even as i am never quite sure what it is. if i thought running back to you would save me from this feeling, i would, but it would destroy me instead. you call me back repeatedly but you don't understand what you are asking every time you do.
it is not as simple as saying i want to be with you, because i am not sure that i do. it is not that i want your heart. it is that i want this love to be understood without being distorted, and that is not possible. i can never give it to you the way it is, you will always see it as something else. this is what breaks me. that something so beautiful within me becomes so ugly when seen by others. it is like taking photographs of a sunrise that looks like other worlds to the human eye but only a sky to the lens. you might see a shadow of beauty in it but it is nothing compared to its reality.
you are a part of me like dreams of past lives, a life in which we were not separate entities. this is the nature of how my soul recognizes yours, as if our atoms have been rearranging themselves for centuries, always finding each other in different forms. the parts of you will always find the parts of me. if love is recognition, then i love you, with each part of me. but this feels paltry to say when we distort the meaning of the word love into desire.
i do not desire you. this is not a hunger waiting to be satiated, a set of salivating teeth. this is not my body. i recognize you. i know you. beyond words or senses or touch, in a plane of space and time that is removed from here but existing always. i want nothing from you but that you are.
this is all i have.