My Love

It seems too much
To commit your name to the screen
As if I could pretend or imagine or delude myself into thinking a love poem could be written for any other

It cannot

You hold my heart

I want to tell you

About the woman I am becoming
How different and similar she is to my old self
Her strength I am embracing
Her character I am exploring
Dark tears stemmed with winsome laughter
Red wine alternated with IPAs
Quite often even sobriety (gasp!)
Deep talks offset with light banter
Rosy hope tempered by sad acceptance
Desperation meeting assurance reforming in resilience

This once isolated soul opening to my need for heartfelt connections
I indulge in nibbles

You’d like me

I think

And could you love me too?

I don’t know.
I don’t know.

That fear
That not knowing
Restrains me

Wondering is
Painful, desperate, aching, tragic, horrid, raw, oozing, awful, festering

But (just) bearable

And maybe, slowly, healing


With all her strength, this new woman does not yet have that strength
Could not bear that blow

I’m sorry I didn’t hold your hand
I’m sorry I let go of your heart

We had a shared language
My dialect has changed
I wish I could enlighten you

I’m here

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