Time is my only tool, my only weapon, the only thing that is now on my side.

I understand all that I never saw before and, my God, if I could flip the hourglass and turn back the sand, I would.

But time is useless now as the war has ended, neither of us victorious.

I never knew the rules and maybe, I should have played it differently.

I will never know whether it was a game, a battle of wills or a fear of the unknown.
I fool myself that you were afraid of love.

As, I know you felt it, when we first met.

I could have stayed right there forever, with you. I truly would have.

We could sit beneath the stars and let the fantasies of life tumble out before us.
We could dream and adventure—we’d have found a love that almost doesn’t exist.

I often think about my errors, my misjudgments and most of all, my foolish expectations.

I placed you high upon a pedestal and the fall could only ever be hard and deeply painful.

If the clock rewound, maybe I would be far sharper, more callous with your feelings. Maybe I should have fed you pieces and left you wanting more.

I could have danced your way, watching closely to follow all your moves. But we weren’t willing partners and clumsiness got in the way. Besides, you would never want someone who follows and I could never play this foolish role.

We were impatient, indifferent, silent, stubborn and unwilling.

We were too far in, too far out. We both tried again and again to severe ties.

I was hurt and confused, I didn’t know myself and you were so different to others.

I didn’t know then, but I know now.

I should have taken time, loosened the grip, let go and, fuck, more than anything, I wish I’d never crushed and crumbled.

Our egos fuelled with fire and blame, we both did what we wanted, we never thought of the other and how our actions fanned the flames.

I made mistakes and you did too—now our ship has sailed, we have lost our way, we are far out, forgotten almost although we are both on the horizon.

But, we are keeping a safe distance from us. You want calmer sea I want the thrashing of the shore. Maybe one day we will meet, midway.

One day. Maybe.

For now, I know the only thing that will make us stronger is time.

We need it.

For me to learn and for you to learn and for us both to appreciate what we very nearly had. Even though we never nearly had it.

And still, I need to figure out how you need me, not just how I need you.

I wouldn’t give you all of me, so soon, without surrender.

I panicked and stumbled. You were a mystery to me. I lost my way. And so did you.

If time untangles, I’d still take all the chances, for I still don’t know who messed it up the most.

I think it was me. But then I think it was you. And for that reason, I know it is still not the time.

And neither of us wish to talk although we have both removed the locks.

So maybe? Maybe not.

I think of when we met, your smile, your eyes, your shoulders broad and almost arrogant.

I noticed how you stood tall, your lips and how they kissed me, your soft and tousled hair.

The thing that struck me most though, something that still burns right through me.

I noticed all the things in you, you never saw yourself.

I saw your primal fear, your inner mess your tired, exhausted lifestyle.

I saw someone closed off, scared of love, desperate for life. I mean, to really feel alive—you wanted it so badly, though it seemed to exude you.

I saw someone sensitive, gentle, sincere, but someone afraid of being vulnerable that all those things were forsaken in favour of a harsh, protected exterior.

The strangest thing of all is that you were afraid to open to me, for fear of my unravelling of you, but I had already viewed you, from the inside out, before we even spoke.

I bounded to you, we were different, maybe we should have just appreciated that, instead of being wary and quick to criticize.

I know you liked my differences and I yours, but they felt too mysterious at the time. We might have blended. We would have mixed well.

I could not care for your good looks, your lifestyle and your securities. Those things matter not in my world.

You know that I will never reach to you again, for fear of falling into the same abyss. I’m here though, when you are ready. I think.

Although that feels like we’re still playing a game of chess. I am waiting for your move so I can consider mine.

Though you will never play the next piece.

And love should never be a game.

I just want you to know, I can now see, I wanted only you and in wanting it so, I forced you further from me and you forced me too.

I guess sometimes what we want isn’t always what we need.

But, I have never wanted what I need.

“Happiness is only real when shared.” ~ Christopher McCandless

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Relephant:

I Only Want to Be Touched by You.

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Author: Alex Sandra Myles

Editor: Ashleigh Hitchcock

Photo: flickr