How do I describe our “relationship”…our “love”… It’s indescribable unless I compare it to something else altogether…
I saw him as this beautiful vast ocean, maybe at sunset or sunrise….or some equally beautiful time. He was this ocean full of beauty, full of treasures and hidden caves I yearned to explore. I was the sand, the beach; vast and glorious, too, but unable to reach the depths of him that I really wanted to. I was trapped, motionless, stuck waiting for him to come to me, to want to let me in as much or as little as he wanted to. It was a very lonely existence but he was so beautiful, the treasures so boundless, that I couldn’t help but be content with waiting; content with what he was willing to give. And God every time he washed over me, every time those fierce waves rose in all their glory full of passion and life and fell down upon me with trust and desire, my senses came alive. They were on fire and he seeped into my every pore, to the very core of me and made me come alive, wanting with an unadulterated passion more and more of him.
…but he always drew back, retreating from me, leaving me lost and lonely, and empty…so empty. Every time he washed over me he stole away more than he gave. And still I waited for the next time he would let me in and awaken my soul…
Those were my days. That was how I spent my time loving him. Never allowed to get any closer than he would let me. It pained me to have to watch the war he had with himself, the way the waves could be so angry and merciless at times, the tide violently swirling about haphazardly, pushing away all that was beautiful inside, afraid to let things be calm for too long; to believe that the beauty could last. But when he was calm, oh when he believed that it could last, that I would never hurt him, those times were pure magic…the reasons why I fought against the torrent he would assault me with to see if I would retreat. I wasn’t going anywhere. And if he were honest with himself than he would see that I was always there. Whether he chose to wash over me, to come to me, and love me; I was always there. The foundation of his ocean…it was me. I had crept into him when he’d been unaware, had made my mark and created this safety net to catch him should he ever fall. See even at the bottom of even the deepest darkest ocean is a floor of sand that keeps it from becoming a bottomless abyss…I was protecting him from losing himself…to himself. But he couldn’t see that I would never cause him the pain the world had.
And though I know he loved me, I couldn’t make him see what was right in front of his eyes, so I was forced to live my life waiting; simply waiting. Watching and hurting and wanting what was so close to me, but unable to keep him from slipping away from me time and time again…a fool in love…o
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