| The Falling Oh, I saw her again. In my dreams, she came to me and we rode a thousand white horses. I smothered her in every way a man knows how. In my waking hours, I see her in the flesh. My heart flutters: it speaks in morse code. Waves of anticipated responses: Will she return my emotions? Will she thank me, and wish me well? Will she toy with me, driving me to a self-imposed hell? Even if she feels this way, that moment of release, that second those three words escape my longing lips, (I love you) I will be in pure heaven. No more hiding behind pretenses. No more pauses in which to tell you how I feel. Yet, I fear it is too early to express these desperate sentiments. |