No, I Don't Hate Loving You

I don't hate loving you, my dear, my love. Even when my mind screams otherwise, the lament, " I hate you!" filling every breath, settling in my spine. But I don't hate loving you, no, love, I don't. I hate the soft silence in my bed upon waking, my first thought of you, as I breathe in the memory of your scent, wrapping my arms around the imaginary curve of your back. What I hate in this is the breathtaking loneliness that overcomes me, the heart-wrenching feeling of missing how perfectly your form met against mine...and now it is gone. I hate the despair I feel when you ignore me, because I fear I never mattered, I fear that meaninglessness will engulf my life in a sea of grey, and every time I see you the desperate beating of my heart will never be matched by yours. I hate my hunger for your laughter, and my discouraging fears that no one else's merriment will play with my heart quite as beautifully as yours does. I fear that no other sun shines as brightly as yours, and I hate that I had to tell you to leave. Why did I make you leave? I know I had to, but the guilt of that act sears me like acid, eating away the edges of my composure. I hate that you don't try, that you don't express the same longings that I do with open abandon. I hate that our roles reversed, and now yours is the closed-off stony facade, and my face is the one bearing tears. It hurts me that you have time for everyone else, that you respond and spend time with others, but not me. Am I meaningless to you? How can the thought of you settle upon my mind so oft throughout each day, yet I feel the same isn't true for you. Enough of pretense, for there are darker feelings, too. I want you to want me. Only me. With every breath you take, I want the pause upon inhaling to tighten your chest from the thought of me. I want each exhalation to come with the silent whisper of my name. I want you to feel my presence beside you at night, and curse the gods because I'm not truly there. I want to steal your laughter in a bottle and keep it all to myself. I want your arms to hold me when I am unwell, and your sympathetic voice to encourage me into health. I want my arms around you, breathing you into my soul, knowing you are doing the same. I want a second chance at loving you; an opportunity to dive in, to not hold back this time, to resist my fears and stop believing that our love was meant to be broken. I want your kisses which feel so natural that I could swear they were made only for me. I want your love, fiery, dynamic, yet sure, unquestioning. I want to know that when I return home from battle, you will be there to gently kiss my ring finger, to kiss my lips, to ever-so-tenderly kiss my forehead; the way you kiss me, seemingly with reverence, breaks open the chambers of my heart, strengthening each beat that follows. And yet... I want nothing from you. I want you to simply be you. I want you to have peace. I want to let you go, to move on, to find someone "better" - that someone who kept me from loving you completely because I feared I could feel their heartbeat in the distance, calling for my own. I'm confused, my darling, and I feel so befuddled and lost. I want you, I don't want you, I want someone whom I've never met yet, and I want no one ever again. I'm afraid to love you, I'm afraid to let you go, I'm afraid to want you, I'm...terrified to never long for you again. How great a tragedy it would be, to feel a love so magnitudinous only to let it blow away like sand and scatter into nothingness. Please don't make me let you go. Please tell me to let go. I'm not torn, but I feel my back breaking beneath these columns of hope and fear. I want to let my fears go...and just love...and let be. ...but... ...but.. Mine. Gimme.