I'm sorry...
The first week of class, I found two to be attractive,
But I found you more attractive and I didn't pursue.
Why?
Because looks mean nothing to me.
I had to see the difference between you two.
There was much.
I noticed it early on.
I didn't say.
I waited like a lion hunting a gazelle,
But you became more like a lioness than a prey,
So I retreated because my heart became like a lone zebra.
I had to retreat into the herd before I was caught and slain,
So I hid behind friendship always wanting more.
Never feeling like I was worthy,
Though you told me I was,
Making me wonder why you thought so low of yourself
Rather than seeing your view of me was an open door.
I questioned what you had done, who you were.
Why did I become so angelic?
I am a lion hungering for meat
While cowering in fields of tall grass lies I had told myself.
I shouldn't have trusted you.
I should've built you up.
It occurred to me.
God pursued the church.
The church said it was unworthy.
God knew it to be unworthy.
Still, He pursued.
I should've chased you down like gold in the mid-1900s.
Uprooted my entire existence for a chance at you-
At wealth-
Wealth beyond any material thing I could possess.
She, who was exactly what I was missing.
Forget the fake hair and the big chop.
Forget the thick thighs; girl that's hot.
Forget everything you saw wrong in you.
I loved it!
But I'm sorry...
Though I loved it, I overanalyzed,
Thinking the distancing was you not wanting me
Rather than me not trying hard enough.
"Pursue like Jesus!" I scream at myself-
A faint image of a long time ago,
Stuck in a cycle because I don't know how to let go.
A memory refusing to just fade.
Because what if? ...
You're not married.
Neither am I.
But I still can't have you!?
I must've messed up so bad.
You say I didn't,
But I did.
I should've shown how much your smile warmed my heart.
I pictured it with every chuckle you made over the phone.
Should've let you feel my giddiness to your newness,
Like a chance to hang out with you after school.
How in awe I was that you would ask me about love.
The boy who's been single his entire life,
Still unsure of how to say, “I'm interested.”
Scared to ask about men because I would be devastated.
You were so beautiful.
Each reaction carried so much weight to me.
What is a wife?
I don't know.
I keep saying I do, but I don't.
Apparent in the correlation with my singleness.
The longer it goes, the less I know.
It's how I feel.
For all I know, she looked like you.
So forgive me for not knowing how to say it clearly.
I had finally admitted that I loved you.
My heart still shouted in fear of pain.
Brain, you don't come to these conclusions,
These miscalculations,
These ostentatious sayings.
"Look, we're imitating Jesus and His bride!"
You don't shoot for these things! ...
You only dream of them...
Must we wake to reality?
And so, I retreated when I texted you "Happy Birthday,"
When I knew I should've called you,
And you caught that, so I panicked.
Hid back in the tall grass amongst "we're just friends,"
When I should’ve apologized, asking for a date.
The rope fell from my hand.
I lassoed you and let you go.
How I wish-
How I wish-
How I wish I could lasso the moon.
I'd gather the sun and other galaxies too.
Just to lay them at your feet,
Happily screaming “I. Love. You”...
Instead of such things, I say what all men seem to say.
That you were great to hang with but, other than that, no.
That I have interests in you but no emotion to prove it.
That though I looked forward to no one else's voice,
Still, you aren't enough.
I spat the same garbage I spent years trying not to say.
I confused you.
I hurt you.
I hurt us.
I hurt myself.
Better to have loved then lost
Than to never have loved at all.
Better to have loved you, my church,
Than to have never created our love at all.
God knew.
I knew...
I'm sorry...
Forgive me.
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