The Confessional

This is why friends are the cheapest therapists.... I was there to hear her out not to make her feel better, but just to let her feel... So this is a blueprint of her thoughts and feelings.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Do you love him?

…

What kind of question is that?

….

I want to know your answer, do you love him?

…

Every bone in my body, every aching heartbeat, every butterfly flutter in my tummy, every tear shed, screams how much I do. I love him.

I hate it when others call me beautiful because I just want him to say it.

I hate being touched by another man; I cringe at the thought of it.

I fight the feeling, day and night, but I can’t shake him out.

How can you shake out your own soul? Tell me how?!

….

But…

….

I don’t want anyone to tell me to get over him. To get over it.

I can’t get over the person I inhale and exhale.

Even when he looks at me with those deep set brown eyes, I melt

He melts me

I love him.

…

I see…

…

Then there are those fleeting moments. Where I catch him staring at me

It’s like time stops there and then, and I envision it

I envision sleeping beside him, having his babies, carrying his name

I would give up everything you know

Everything

I would sleep on the streets if need be.

…

Yes, I know. I really do.

…

And don’t tell me I am crazy

I know I can be pathetic at times 

Yes i admit it

But I crave him

Yes crave.

I just want to scream at him and tell him "You are man enough!"

"Let me be The Woman to that man that you are"

But he’s stubborn

…

Well…

….

Not much I can do.

I can’t say this to him. I can’t confess it.

Is this my confessional?

…

I’ll take out my pen and paper.

…

Thank you I probably won’t remember it in the morning.

…

I’ll make sure you do.