The Chains of My Heart

December 8, 2009
By gdep1130 BRONZE, Commack, New York
gdep1130 BRONZE, Commack, New York
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I’m right behind her now.
Her hair rests elegantly on her shoulders.
I want her to notice me.
Does she even know who I am?

We talked today.
Seems like such small steps at first; like little stairs.
But stairs became staircases which can ascend one to higher levels.
I want to be on a higher level with her.

I feel happy. It’s an odd feeling.
To feel like life is simply sublime at that moment.
I live in the moment, the first time I have in a while.
But she makes me look to the future.
What can happen?
What will happen?
I want to know.

I saw her with him today
It makes me bubble
But why? Am I jealous?
More like envious. Of their happiness.
I want to be him. I want my hand to gently slip between her fingers.
I want to hold her. I want her to know I’m here.

I woke up today, looked outside my window
All I saw was her.
The leaves, the clouds, even the sun seemed to glow with a radiance that copied her smile.
Why can’t I get her out of my head?
I want her out of my head and into my arms.

As is to follow the natural course of life, most of my dreams are that of a pubescent nature.
But with her…with her, we are at the beach.
The sun sets in the west as we sit and hear the sound of waves crashing surround us.
We talk; we laugh; we love. My fingers gently rub against hers.
And against my most primal instinct, I am content.
And the reason is something no logical person can contemplate.
Because love is illogical.
It’s when you look someone in the eyes and say “I am not complete without you.”

I want to tell her.
I want her to know
I want to look into her eyes and see the same look I put in come back at me tenfold.
I want to kiss her.

Every moment they are together pains me more and more.
They link together, like links in a chain, closing off my heart.
But my love for her, it breaks the chains, one link at a time.
Something has to give. I’m afraid that it’ll be me.
The chains will encompass my heart and my love will disintegrate.

The agonizing irony of my situation is that to gain love, I must cause pain to the one I love.
How can I possibly let myself condone such massacre of beauty and grace?
Perhaps it is better for her to survive so she can bloom.
Even if it means I must wither in the shade.
And, although I’d suffer pain not unlike what she would,
I’d wither away happy that one of us could bloom.

I watched the sun rise today.
It was the gloomiest of days, but a sliver of light managed to get through to illuminate the sky.
It gave me hope.
The chains are still on my heart, but maybe I can break them all.

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