when you meet a person for the very first time, a person that seems like a fit with your narratives of compatibility, you smile. nervously. coyly. hoping, is everything going well? is it a mutual attraction? does the person feel the same thrill, excitement, jolt, nervousness? the same dramatics of your mind construal, the same imbalance, the same impetus? the same force to grab your fingers or grip your elbows? an emotional arousal -a category of belonging. of conversation and connection. of a founding communication. maybe this is worth a shot? am i going too fast?
in my mind, it is. nervous and hesitant. beseeching and hoping. worrying, even. i hope this works. i really do. and then i continue to look at you. disposing of my predilection to logic and argumentation. bypassing a series of preliminaries and scrutinies. cold judgment, character analysis, aside. i want to live in the moment. looking at you, laughing with you, crying with you. holding you and telling you that there is a beauty in your soul. that i feel a rush of love and lust, by your side and while i am away. thinking about you constantly, uncertainly, rushed. how does this happen after a first encounter? why does this happen? a perilous prospect. because i am still confused about the basicity of my rudimentary entrenchment. an electric capture -how do i let you go? knowing that one of us may be unattainable. may be a formidable challenge to love. gripping my tongue blossoms, my charity woes. any sense of the rationality. genteel and calm. how am i calm when the concept of you, your hazy face, floats in my mind all the time? how am i supposed to sit and rationalize with myself that one of us is less deserving, perhaps? how am i to explain to the bases of my apprehension and coarse melancholy, that it is me, at odds with expectations. how am i to reach a crown sensitivity and not feel like i was pushing and pushing till i over-stepped the limit, because there wasn't the trace of your physical prototype. it all comes down to the physical, doesn't it? and if it is, is that even unnatural?
when you break a heart, remember how it felt when yours was broken.
in loops of logic, in words of the composer, in words of the emotional narcissist, call me what you will. it hurts every time. so very bad, so deep. remember how it feels to ignore? deep, chasmic. remember how it feels to lie? heart-rending. because there is a fickle-sensed man. because there is always another. because you didn't live up? because you didn't grow to that standard of capacity and capability?
how do you tell someone. vaguely. i love you. without saying you do?
in my mind, it is. nervous and hesitant. beseeching and hoping. worrying, even. i hope this works. i really do. and then i continue to look at you. disposing of my predilection to logic and argumentation. bypassing a series of preliminaries and scrutinies. cold judgment, character analysis, aside. i want to live in the moment. looking at you, laughing with you, crying with you. holding you and telling you that there is a beauty in your soul. that i feel a rush of love and lust, by your side and while i am away. thinking about you constantly, uncertainly, rushed. how does this happen after a first encounter? why does this happen? a perilous prospect. because i am still confused about the basicity of my rudimentary entrenchment. an electric capture -how do i let you go? knowing that one of us may be unattainable. may be a formidable challenge to love. gripping my tongue blossoms, my charity woes. any sense of the rationality. genteel and calm. how am i calm when the concept of you, your hazy face, floats in my mind all the time? how am i supposed to sit and rationalize with myself that one of us is less deserving, perhaps? how am i to explain to the bases of my apprehension and coarse melancholy, that it is me, at odds with expectations. how am i to reach a crown sensitivity and not feel like i was pushing and pushing till i over-stepped the limit, because there wasn't the trace of your physical prototype. it all comes down to the physical, doesn't it? and if it is, is that even unnatural?
when you break a heart, remember how it felt when yours was broken.
in loops of logic, in words of the composer, in words of the emotional narcissist, call me what you will. it hurts every time. so very bad, so deep. remember how it feels to ignore? deep, chasmic. remember how it feels to lie? heart-rending. because there is a fickle-sensed man. because there is always another. because you didn't live up? because you didn't grow to that standard of capacity and capability?
how do you tell someone. vaguely. i love you. without saying you do?
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