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Spiral Up

By Eric

She has the words to back herself up but I have nothing. I live depending on her needs and her dreams. I want more but if I do not know what I want, where would I go? It is not the fact that I am comfortable with her that stops me but the fact that she believes we are not comfortable and, with that in mind, changes herself, changes so much, every day, that there is not a reason for me to leave her. She is so inconsistent that the thought of having to be away from her, fills me with awe and fear at my own madness.

Do you feel like the world owes us something?, she says, I don’t and that is why I think that we build things like ourselves all alone. I mean our relationship, our trust. Never believe otherwise.

I have to agree but also I have to fear because I never know what kind of answers she expects from me. She has that look in her eyes, the thread of doubt but also of completeness. Almost as if she knows what is going to happen, almost as if she is sure of a world ahead with the two of us together, she in her place, and I in mine.

I have dreams too, she tells me, I have dreams that never stop and you would be there with me if you really wanted to. I know you want to. I know what you want and I believe in that as well.

Once again, I shiver in anticipation because my life has been one of prolonged extensions of self-doubt and lack of anything resembling confidence. Should I remind her of the love I feel or offer a nice comparison to her thoughts? I know some of the things she likes and dislikes but even they are lost in a maze of her disappointment. I did that, though, I did that because I just lack the power to be as great as she is.

I do not want to fear her anymore and I want to love her even more. Her eyes are of the most beautiful kind. Her dreams are solid and realistic while mine flow ethereally into her. She knows what things to say so I can hold her hand a wonder if I could ever reach her lips within my same state of mind.

I want to tell you, I say, I want to tell you of ourselves.

Her smile then. Her smile follows and once again, her tongue wires swim into my unprotected conscience as she speaks…

Do you love me or do you love everything about me?

 Photo credit: Darwin Bell / Foter / CC BY-NC

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