Love is selfish. Do not tell me a healthy love is not. I want him all for myself, shamelessly, and will not share him even with the sea. I wish to be his only passion, I dream fruitlessly that that could be enough.
I wait for him, but waiting is hard, No - Impossible. What tides my heart over is knowing that if he were to choose, he would choose the empty space next to me. But if he would not choose that space, my waiting is meaningless. Love is lonely.
I am impatient for him to return to me and ease the strain of waiting... I do not want to wait alone, nor be the only one who waits. Love is impatient, so am I.
In expecting perfection and meeting with something less, lies the problem. But I am literally blind to his flaws, if he possesses any. He is not blind to mine. Love is judgmental.
Love is unkind to me, for it renders me so helpless to its call, so dependant on its symptoms. I have not ever suffered as I suffer from Love.
Love is mortal, but I own the philosophers stone.
Love is human, and sometimes, Love is not enough. Not enough to keep us from crying, not enough to keep us from dying. Not enough to insulate us, nor keep us safe, not always enough to heal wrongs completely. But it is enough for him to forgive me and forget how I have failed him.
Good intentions and a pure heart alone cannot keep this love above water. Apologies and long talks and back-tracking and regret will keep my Love strong where Love leaves me weak and dazed.
I fail - I misplace my words and his passion, my emotion overrides my logic and my Love hurts him. Not from lack of Love, but rather too much - from spinning out of control with selfishness, impatience and loneliness and creating a Lovewind of destruction. Love fails, and it destroys.
But I know, my love is perfect.
It is big enough to swallow it's weaknesses and still emerge glorious, divine, almighty. My Love is my God, I dance around him and dare not dwell on his imperfections for fear that he will break me for my lack of faith. To him I am true and I give everything I have. To him I surrender myself, it is him I believe in.
Perfection does not mean without imperfections, but the ability to rise above them unbroken.
This Love cannot be broken.
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