Can I write about you?

Can I write about you?
I am afraid to do so.
Every night before I lay in my bed… there you are, present in my thoughts.
Before I can be lost in my sleep, I have to wrestle with the pictures that you reflect in my mind.
I tried to examine what could have ignited the spark that erupted into these flames, burning me with the possibility that maybe one day you could be.
Maybe one day you won’t need to visit me in the night because I will wake to the sound of your voice, bringing to life the pictures you used to play in my mind.
Maybe one day I will smile… laugh… and live freely without doubt or fear.

Can I write about you?
It seems as though I am going around in circles… never reaching the final destination.
It feels like you’re piercing a hole in my soul, as if you’re reminding me that I am not whole.
I cannot contain you anymore, not in this way anymore.
Isn’t there any other way to articulate all that you are?
My mind cannot capacitate to calculate the effects that you will leave hanging the next time.
And I cannot envisage how all ‘these’ effects will be translated to my heart.
You have to find another way.

Can I write about you?
Is this your way of saying, “Mary you were almost close the last time, you cannot give up now”.
I do not want to give up. Even if I were to do so, what would I give up to?
What would I gain out of it?
I want to believe so much in you and not be torn between you and the past.
I want to believe that you can fill this hole with hope and trust that you will not disappoint.
Otherwise what would be the point of your existence?


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