I fell for you slowly
and all at once.
You melted into mine as I wanted you to,
and, too still, we became the moments we wanted to choose —
I wanted you momentary and meaningful,
I wanted you was divine.
captivated by the water
we left the excitement too late and the solidity too soon.
I was never solid to you.
I fell for you all too soon,
but, for you, I wouldn’t have wanted the choice.
I liked you as you were, and I stay because you are:
because of who you are.
You keep me captivated and sure,
and the lines you draw leave me lonely,
but I know you weren’t ready to love me.
We were too young to be sure, and I was too sure to be yours,
and “he would have loved you if he knew how” keeps me okay for now,
you wanted to try keeps me fine,
and “I don’t want you to wait for me” confuses me for the first time.
Writing the words makes me trans-lose the meaning I thought I knew.
“I don’t want you to wait for me” is patiently leaving me.
The past has always shown you lacking for me, leaving me on the shore.
Leaving me less certain.
I knew how to love you
I just didn’t know what to do.
Knowing you has kept me better, has kept me sure:
I am becoming everything I knew I wanted to be.
I keep you in mind when mine is too unsure, when I’m tied to the reactions I crave in the momentary,
my symptoms too dumb to choose.
I love you, still and fast.
I love you measures me against the impulses I used to take.
I fell for you as I knew I didn’t want to feel.
I can still feel the moments we made in the evening, in the you I traced in the fading light.
You left as you came
correct, unbeknownst to me, but knowing all the same.
You left as you had to, and I kept what I could. I become who I crave by losing what I wanted,
the growth leaving me implicit.
“Let’s take it slow” the first sign of me trapped in our eager ease;
“I don’t feel that connection with you” the final surety.
I fell for you, eager and lost.
And all I know, is your laugh
my favourite sound.
12 March, 2019