What do you do when the person you fell in love with seems to no longer exist? No, he's not dead. But the essential things that made him different, made him special, and most pertinent, made you fall for him seem to have vanished into the years, leaving behind only whispers and ghosts of what used to be.
He says he's still the same, his feelings for me are still the same, but how can the be when the actions are so different?
I love him, but is it accurate to say that I love the person who is present in my life now, or am I in love with the person I met all those years ago? Sure, the guy who left here in a huff this morning, in such a hurry to get to his precious job has my devotion, my loyalty, my affection. But who has my heart?
I see glimpses of the man who I fell in love with. In promises made, in letters written, in half murmured endearments while he's drifting off to sleep. But only rarely do I see him in person, in waking hours, and even then, the moments are fleeting and unsatisfying.
The man I fell in love with. He was something. Handsome, but not especially aware of it. Charming, gentlemanly, affectionate. He gave me the only perfect kiss I've ever had in my life. It was our first kiss, and I relive that moment often, still getting the butterflies I got that night.
The guy I fell in love with, he took an incredible amount of pride in knowing that he could make me blush, from across a room with nothing more than a look. A smoldering gaze that cut through everything between. A look that spoke of so much more than a simple lust. It was a look that spoke of devotion, an look that made me feel sexy and protected and loved. Desired and valued and prized. God, how I miss that look. Not just the look though, but all the things it stood for and represented. I had a man, a real man. A man that would be there for me, NO MATTER WHAT. A man that would always protect me, love me, worry about my well being, emotionally, physically, psychologically.
I fell for a man who was big enough to say I'm sorry and mean it. A man that worried more about my hurt feelings than his own pride, and that was beautiful. Those were the things that made me head over heels for him. I was his, mind, body and soul, and I guess I would say I still am. Sounds pretty incredible right? That's because he is!
But where is he? Where has he gone? Is he a part of my permanent past? Can I hope for him to be a part of my present at some point, and plan for him to be my future? What if he never comes back? Is it fair to say the commitment I made to him applies to the impostor that sleeps in his place?
I know you're still in there, somewhere. And if I know you, you're like an animal trapped in a cage, furious at being denied freedom, yelling, screaming, clawing to be let out. You bury your best possible self, the version of you I fell in love with, behind childish excuses and immature claims that this is just who you are.
Well that, my love is bullshit! If this person, who walks all over my feelings, who seems to care about everything else in his life more than me, who seems to think I'm not worth any kind of effort on his part, if that was the real you, I simply could not be in love with you, and I am.
You told me this morning that the person who writes those messages to me is not part of my own personal fairy tale, and that he is reality. If that's true, you better find a way to make that more than just words you said to get me off your back. You used to be my Prince Charming, my Knight in Shining Armor and my best Lover, all rolled into one. Now, more often than not, you're the one causing me the most grief, and you're leaving miles of room for a new Prince to come in and sweep me off my feet.
Right now, I'm still completely yours, no question. But as I sit in my tower, looking out to the horizon, waiting for my dark haired, brown eyed prince to return to me, I know in my heart that if he doesn't come soon, the fire that I carry for him in my heart will fade, slowly burning out along with the hope that my man will come back to me. Every fairy tale with a Princess ends a certain way. I want you to be my Prince until ever after, but if you don't want the position, if you don't want my heart, my soul, my spirit, and my unquenchable, inexhaustible, undying love and devotion, well, you know what they say. One man's junk is another man's treasure.
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