truth…

I wish I could tell you.

I wish I could tell you the truth 

But I can’t, because that would not be professional of me.

Truth typed would make you anxiously read through the lines…

And I don’t want that. 

I don’t want any harm, anxiousness, or unease to come to you.

I want you to feel strong and confident. 

I want to remind you of the man that you are,

But instead I stay silent.

Or laugh off the pressure with a joke.

The pressure to not care,

Weighs heavy on me like a case caught mid-air.

It nearly slips as my hands shake unsteadily. 

I’ve done this a million times it seems, 

But for whatever reason this case feels like the first I’ve ever caught.

Like the first of the morning that somehow feels heavier than the rest. 

Your presence weighs heavier on my soul.

Perhaps it’s because I’ve tried to mourn you, forget my feelings, let you go.

Oh the work and focus I’ve put into my personal growth over the path month 

To try and drown out the tears.

They still find their way to be seen…

Yet hidden. 

I wish I could tell you all this…

But I know that I can’t. 

For letting you in on my care in the past, 

Is what sent you packing in a frenzy. 

I could feel you drifting from me,

My anxiety beckoning.

I was so afraid of losing you,

And then I lost you anyway.

I wish I didn’t care for you.

I wish I could let those feelings go,

Instead of being held captive,

Knowing they are empty promises. 

Knowing I’m inconveniencing you with my care.

I wish I didn’t love my job,

Because then it would be easier to leave. 

To leave you behind so we could both move on.

So I could move on. 

Because I don’t want to see you happier with someone else.

I already see you happier with every soul blessed by your presence,

And each time you connect with or ignite another…

I break a little more inside.

I feel a little more of the loss of you from my life.

The dark whispers consume my conscious:

I am not what you need at this time.

At this time, I am enough for me.

I know it.

But I also feel you deeply,

In a way I’ve never felt anyone before. 

And honestly, 

I want to hate myself for it.

Because you could so easily let me go,

And everyday I struggle not to want you more.

Everyday I struggle to joke what I feel to be true.

Everyday I struggle to pretend that I don’t want to tell you how amazing or attractive or hard-working or kind or funny or sexy or amazing you are. 

So I break you down with jokes. 

I joke about what hurts, 

Pretending I don’t feel the pain. 

I joke about your popularity,

Pretending I don’t feel jealous. 

I joke about you,

Pretending I don’t care.

Because I don’t want to be the forest fire spreading,

Taking up emotional space, 

Wrecking havoc in your zen life. 

But I do.

I do take up space.

And I do feel big feelings. 

And I do feel big feelings for you.

Without trying.

And perhaps you see right through me. 

But I must admit,

I’m getting a little sick

Of lying. 

Because I wish I could admit to myself.

And I wish I could tell you.

I wish I could tell you the truth.