Walkway

Stepping out into the big unknown. Flicking aside pebbles and twigs from the beaten down path. Staring straight ahead at whatever comes into view. A serious sort of stare. The kind of stare that says, "You'd better not mess with me! I can take you on!" Dragging feet along the dusty earth. Shutting dry eyes and turning the face heavenward, whilst welcoming the gentle gust of a temporary wind. And the rustling leaves on the trees form a soothing harmony, coupled with the tweeting of birds from the tree branches. The rumble of distant thunder... what awaits in the future horizon? The reddish-orangish tinge of the setting sun. The sudden silence falling all around. Another twilight beckons, another ending day. Lips parting to sing a quiet song. The tune echoes through the open space. Aloneness. Serenity. Hopefulness in better things to come, maybe tomorrow.

Anxiety Attacks

I think I'm in love.

Trouble is, it's just that. A thought.

What does he think? That's my whole problem just there. Yes there. Right there. I don't know what he thinks.

Oh, I've been down this road before. One too many times. I figure maybe it's become somewhat too familiar...

Girl likes guy. Girl brushes it off as a silly thought. Time passes. Girl likes guy more and more. Guy's awfully nice, and (I suppose) likes being with girl. BUT guy is clueless that girl likes guy. Guy moves on in life. Girl gets left behind.

That about sums it up most times. Sigh.

I just want an ongoing reason for us to be in touch. I just want him to want me. And it's agony waiting this out. Because I know the most likely ending.

^

And if by chance it's you that reads this, I just want you to know...

That I think of you much and wish you'd always be here. Maybe I don't know you enough, but I do wish I had the chance.

That if it were up to me, I'd be your #1 supporter 24-7. And if ever you thought any less of yourself than what you're really worth, there's at least this ONE person here who thinks the world of you.

That I wish you'd call.

That I'm not perfect, but I'm hoping you'll say you'd still like me anyway.

That I know it's stupid, that I feel this way about you, but God willing, I'd try the best I could to be that helpmeet that you [just might] need someday.

That I can't say the words "I love you" because the proximity and circumstances and prospects don't warrant it.

That it's agony hoping that you'd feel for me the way I do for you, especially when I know it's close to impossible.

That I wish you the best for your life when you do finally go away, even if I don't get a share in it.