post-lovebomb

I’m sorry I couldn’t commit…
But it’s hard to settle for less than unapologetically obsessed. You know, I know what it feels like when someone actually cares…

They never miss an opportunity to show their authentic admiration. They’re eager to check-in, share and consistently practice intelligent inquiry because they actually want to open up. Maybe we sit in awe after talking in circles, about love, life, trauma and our truths…

You know that you don’t devour every part of me, you don’t hover over every inch of my body. You barely spend time in my eyes and you’ve yet to stop time with kisses. You haven’t figured out to ground me with firm touch or hold my presence by petting my hands and arms. You do not know how to objectify me with love.

You’ve yet to remark my subtle energetic shifts and how the sun shines in my eyes or on my skin. But it’s OK- I’ll let you squeeze me & my squishy parts. Watch you get off to what I know could be loved.

But I admire you, so please…
Narrate what you are going to do with your feelings for me. Send me flirty notes of affirmation, and take the time you need, but always come back. Prove my anxiety wrong. Abandon yourself to me. Because I miss the feeling of mutuality.

 
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