If only...

If we could just remove all our wounds, heal the damage left from past lovers, from parents, abusers, liars and users.
If we could meet again at a different time. Maybe I could be yours and you could be mine. A time when you’re not busy and burned. Scarred from years left unloved or unearned. A time when I’m not beyond the point of no return. Treated so cruelly, burned so thoroughly I became the center of fire. The blue flame of bad behavior.
If we could just say the right things. Both of us, emotionally tripping over each other constantly. Stumbling, trying to stand up only to knock each other down in a day.
Our adverse attachment styles battling in the bloodied field of text messages. Unspoken words of affection, not enough reciprocation from you. Aloof, distracted, never initiating, so I chase.
Which…baby. I usually don’t do. Then I feel the fool. Like a sad character in a play about basic bitches and thirsty, needy women. Could I get further from my true nature? The woman I am isn’t her. This obsessed, insecure, paranoid creature.
You should feel lucky, I am a fucking prize. I know very well you are too. The essence of natural desire...of what we are comprised.
If we could just see each other without fear. Me, terrified of possible lies or unkind hidden truths. You, scared I’m truly crazy and will somehow harm you. Somehow steal whatever little joy you have left to hold dear.
If we could just let the universe guide. Be free and real without needing to know it will survive. Success in love is defined by being kind, careful with each other and also somewhat blind.

7/10/23 For Sgt. Midnight