a terrible love

It is both disheartening and softly suffocating to have to wait for you. It is unsure how long you will still be. Time is a homogenous substance for you. It swallows you whole, engulfs you lovingly, just tight enough to enjoy the endless swim. Then you forget, in that euphoric lapse, in the desert like endless flowing sands of time you forget that you are to step out and commit to the meeting you arranged a while back. Not something that anyone will remind you of, the voices inner and outer are muffled underwater in time’s magical pool. Like slow falling snow quietens any busy city, brings its siren filled beating lanes to a sudden halt. All is better, unimaginably kinder with snow covered streets. Nothing to disturb the thoughts, no loud engines to snap those actually lost in thought back into the land of unsavoury rules. My yells are mere whispers but only when the winds are kind enough to blow in your direction. Hurry is what I yell. Fury is what you at times hear.
 

If the wait did not have its control over me, did not change me into a person inapt and inpatient, then I could have my peace with it. The wait is fading, like you forget to arrive, I forget to wait for you. To ready my heart, to ready my soul. I am caught off guard and walk past you for I am not ready. In every instant you could arrive and I have not been making way. That is you walking towards me but I rush on, busy attending to matters unimportant in their entirety. Then it might be too late. I fear it is already too late. Time’s seductive softness has kept you captive or I have missed the smiling face of opportunity all together. Fear has the greatest power and I cannot tell which is worse, your absence or my failure to commit to the wait.

 

It’s a terrible love. It is terribly absent. It is terribly distant in its hope of ever existing.