Head Over Heels, Stuck in the Middle
I never meant to fall this hard. Or did I? One moment, I was standing on solid ground, and the next, I was free-falling with no parachute, no safety net, just the thrill of loving him. And love him, I do. With a kind of reckless abandon that should come with a warning sign. My heart beats his name, my thoughts revolve around his voice, his laughter, the way his fingers brush absentmindedly against his lips when he’s lost in thought.
I give. I give so much of myself that I wonder if there will be anything left when he’s done not choosing me. Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? A silent rejection dressed as indifference. A love story where only one of us got the memo.
He says he cares yet just enough to keep me tethered but never enough to let me in. His words are warm, then hot, then cold. His actions burn with intensity, then fade into distance. He holds me close but never close enough. I watch him slip through my fingers like sand, yet I clutch harder, hoping love will be enough to make him stay, to make him see. But what if it isn’t?
And yet, there are moments which are fleeting, beautiful moments where I wonder if he does love me, just not in the way I need him to. Maybe he fights his own battles, ones he can’t bring himself to explain. Maybe commitment isn’t a door he can walk through right now, no matter how much he wishes he could or does he even wish it?. And so, he stays on the threshold, never stepping fully inside, never fully leaving either.
I tell myself to walk away, to choose myself. But love is a stubborn thing. It lingers in the quiet moments, in the spaces he never fills. So, I wait. For a sign. For clarity. For the strength to either let go or hold on a little longer.
A very good read …highlighting the ups and down of this thing called love…
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