Don't buy me large, expensive bouquets of flowers. Instead, stroke my face with a single rose petal and mingle its scent with that of your lips and breath.
Don't take me to candlelight dinners where the waiters wear coat tails. Instead, dance with me in the dark to Sting's "When We Dance".
Don't compose ditties for me and sing them to me with guitar accompaniment. Instead, hum a soft tune in my ear on a sleepless night while you stroke my hair.
Don't write poetry for me. Instead, read my favourite poems and try to understand why I love them.
Don't repeat "I love you" every other hour. Instead, show me your vulnerability and allow me to hold you when you've had a bad day.
Don't buy me expensive lingerie and silk sheets. Instead, look into my eyes when you make love to me.
Don't open doors nor pull out chairs for me. Instead, be strong for me in times when I truly need you to be.
Don't pay for all my shopping. Instead, tell me honestly when I put on something that makes me look fat, and tell me I'm gorgeous when I put on something lovely even if it costs an arm and a leg.
Don't do everything I like and go to every place I like. Instead, show me who you are and allow us to discover our own things to do and places to go.
Don't burn yourself out trying to be Mr Super Romantic in the first months of our courtship. Instead, be my perennial best friend and partner.
Don't worship me. Instead, love me.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
Futility
I want many things.
I want to take back the wasted years.
I want him to give a damn about what he did to me when we ended.
I want to grab him by the collar, shake hard and demand, "How COULD you?"
I want him to feel as cheated as I did.
I want my current discontent to have died when my feelings for him died those years ago.
I want to be able to feel without fear.
I want to be able to say, "Goodbye till tomorrow" instead of just, "Goodbye."
I want to be able to remember what it is to be in love, because it scares me that I don't remember.
I want hope to stop wearing away.
I want to take back the wasted years.
I want him to give a damn about what he did to me when we ended.
I want to grab him by the collar, shake hard and demand, "How COULD you?"
I want him to feel as cheated as I did.
I want my current discontent to have died when my feelings for him died those years ago.
I want to be able to feel without fear.
I want to be able to say, "Goodbye till tomorrow" instead of just, "Goodbye."
I want to be able to remember what it is to be in love, because it scares me that I don't remember.
I want hope to stop wearing away.
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