I get the rules. What I don’t get is the intent.
Why encourage me to weave myself into your life?
Why spend a year feeding me a fantasy,knowing all along you’d eventually walk away?
Perhaps I’m the naive one.
In fact, I must be.
I sat there, convinced I was your “Mrs. Jones” , humming along to a song whose lyrics I didn’t actually understand until now.
To be fair, he laid the ground rules from the start: no falling in love.
I understood the assignment.
I was certain I wouldn’t cross that line.
Besides, I had convinced myself that someone as broken as I was lacked the capacity for love anyway.
So, I agreed, and we became a part of each other’s daily lives.
I can’t speak for him, but I grew to love being part of his world.
I had always carried a quiet hunger to love and care for someone, and finding that outlet in him brought me a peace I hadn’t expected.
What I failed to realize, however, was that while I was finding a home in him, he was still just following the rules.
Imagine this:
You confess. He goes silent.
Not a single word.
You’ve created an awkward situation.
He’s in an awkward position.
You? You’re just dying.
Message read. No reply.
Do you double-text to “explain”?
Do you pivot and claim it was just an April Fool’s joke?
Or do you just accept your fate and vanish from the face of the earth?
The truth is, I’ve fallen for you.
It wasn’t a choice I made; it just happened quietly,
growing in the spaces between our conversations.
In fact, I thought I would never feel this again.
I was broken inside,
convinced I was incapable of loving or being loved.
But the desire grew with each passing day—
a slow, steady hunger to love you,
and the impossible wish to be loved by you in return.
I will stop writing now,
for it feels pointless.
I cannot express my love to you
for fear of losing the “us” we already have.
So I will say it here,
Just to make my heart happy for a moment:
I love you very much , baby.
And now, I’ll let the ink dry.
I’ll fold this feeling small enough to hide,
and carry the weight of it, gladly, in your presence.
Millypede 