You were once a stranger, and the burden of hope has since clouded my skies
A hope that maybe we’re alike, that you’d love me and that it would make me feel good
Hope, a burden that ignores the reality and sneers at the facts.
Yet somehow in my mind I have already seen us together.
Sh*t now I am worried I’m beginning to sound like a stalker. It sucks that you don’t like me like I like you. But then again I can’t say I’m shocked.
After all my life has always been a life of settling, of not getting what I wanted... of being within reach of what I value dearly only to totally lose it at the last minute.
I am foolish for expecting this to be different. At least I can find comfort in the familiarity of this mocking feeling.
But if it worked out, I don’t even know what I’d do. If you were interested, would you be willing to be patient with me? To be there, and help me manoeuvre this unfamiliar territory called love. Would you make sure it’s safe for me to be myself? Safe to be ugly and weak and vulnerable? Because I assure you without a shadow of a doubt... that I would do that for you!
