I knew it would come to this, but deep down I hoped it wouldn’t. I feel like crying because I hate placing anyone under any situation that I have been through.

I’m the last person someone should love.

You have no name and there is no way I can refer to you by a name. But I don’t want you to love me, only care for me. I don’t want you to like me but only wish the best for me. I don’t want you to think of me at all that way I just want you to treat me like a mutual friend.

I don’t want to say no to you. I don’t want to feel like I have to push you away. My intentions are not to make you love me. They are not to make you love me. I have no intentions at all.

I want nothing at all. Not now. There are some people you might see yourself with but with you it’s all doubt and hesitation.

Don’t do or say anything. I don’t want you to love me. I swear, I don’t.rnal

You talk about community and starting at the source. 

You talk about things I never heard many people care about before.

You talk about all these things that make you insightful, experienced, intelligent.

A man too good to be true. Beautiful, pleasing for the eyes to behold.

So could I be imagining it? Stealing glances? Attempt to gain a bit of attention?

You say you might have seen, met me before? In my dreams and yours. That’s where we have met. You just don’t know it yet.

I say you are amazing and intelligent. Take my leave and go. But then there is you, still talking… to me.

You say we are intelligent.

Is there any other harder way to fall for you?

Once the dreams stop, I know I have to stop. Stop thinking about you in *any* way possible because this silly, stupid crush on you is so unhealthy. It literally, screams “desperate”. I should be to blame, not you. Because I jump to conclusions with any little bit of attention shown my way.

But you don’t even know what in the world is going on. Not one bit. It’s just me and my imagination. Me and my dreams.

If things were to be like my dreams, I wouldn’t know how to handle it. How could something so awkward have felt so “right”? Everything you did for me was to make me happy. But what had I really deserved?

You thanked me. “For what?” “For quitting my job. I guess, we can start from there.” 

That’s it. That’s how it ended. And I said nothing. I kept my head down and blushed. Accepted it. Wanted it. Yearned for your touch. 

How can I be so stupid? Giving myself in to stupid thought and feelings about something that is just so dumb? 

I don’t want to think that way about you. If only you were younger. Maybe then, the things I could do.

Sometimes I wonder where you are and if it was true what you said to me…

                                          that you could love me the way you said you would.

Blood ||The Middle East

“Thanks” that’s all I got.
I wanted to hurl the phone across the room, cut my connections to you. After all the effort to maintain in “contact” that’s all I got. 

I let it cool off. 

That’s okay.

Just when I had enough time to think it all through, another text. This time, just like old times. 
Just a simple line to remind me that we were somewhat still the same.

Special. 

It keeps replaying over my mind.

Special.

Especial. 

spe·cial (adjective) \ˈspe-shəl\

1. distinguished by some unusual quality; especially : being in some way superior <our special blend>

What is it that you saw in me? 

Or “you”.
            Or you.
                        Or even you.

Something that placed me above the rest? Or are they just lies, lies like all men speak?

2. held in particular esteem <a special friend>

Was it something I did? Something that touched you? A way that I wrote? A way that I looked? A way that I managed to catch your attention?

3. readily distinguishable from others of the same category : unique <they set it apart as a special day of thanksgiving>

What made me different in your eyes, sir?

What words did I convey in a piece of paper that managed to distinguish me from the rest?

Or could you see right through me, bright-eyed, ready to learn? Hungry for the words that you preached in front?

How am I so bright, when I barely even talked.

4. being other than the usual : additional, extra

If looks were the charm, should I be flattered? Should I be happy? Was that, is that all? Am I really that naive to allow they words, become flattered and fall to a trap?

I could. 

            Maybe I will. 

5. designed for a particular purpose or occasion

Or maybe I am all that you say but I just can’t see it. Maybe I’m lost and frightened and any sort of praise my someone such as you is too much to bear.

I’ve become so used to being quiet, going unnoticed, that your words, your “special” has set me off balance.  

I long for a light caress

Across my skin

                    my hands 

                                   my lips

something sweet and tender

               loving and raw

something that will make me feel whole

               complete and satisfied 

I long for the day I get to feel loved.