After the Dance

“I want to be with you because… well, you are everything I know I want and need in a woman”

And here we go again. You saying words that mean things and me knowing that we can never be.

You somehow just seem to think that I am a woman, one who doesn’t subscribe to relationships, and how dare we have a title.

My toxic trait you ask? Watching you try to tear down the walls I’ve built. The walls so tall, so structured, so solid that even I’m exhausted watching you try to strategically engineer the way to my heart.

There is no way. At least that’s what I give off.

Could I love you? Sure.

Do I want to? Of course…no… maybe?

“You know what I enjoy most about you?”

“No, what?”

“You’re beautiful, it’s obvious, but you’re brilliant. you’re strong. you smile all the time… that smile I can’t resist, but you also have that smart ass mouth. Everything about you feels… right”

You do this shit all the time. You stroke my ego in a way that turns me on but makes me place silence between us.

So I lay there. Looking in your eyes, so kind, so deep, so genuine. I touch your face, the heat of your smile gives me chills.

I don’t know how to respond. And you know it. But you don’t want a response in return.

I know you have me figured out. You’ve studied me surreptitiously. You know when I’m stressed, when I need fine dining and strong wine. You know when I need space, and you accept me on the rare occasions I want to cling. You know what makes me belly laugh. You love that. You know what to say to make me think. You love hearing me talk or ramble…about anything and everything but always about my dreams and ideas.

You know when I crave love, and you also know that I’ll reject it.

Because I’m running from you. Running from you being everything I want and need in a man too. Running because the idea of love and emotions and tears and beautiful moments that I know one day will be met with disappointing ones as well and the thought of another person leaving will be the very thing that makes me take my last breath…

You run your hands through my hair, I can feel the intensity of your thoughts… you’re an over-thinker.

“I’m going to convince you to marry me”

I sigh deep

“It’ll never happen”

“I’m going to try”

I’m way too exhausted to debate this. So I choose silence instead.

The one thing I know for sure, is in the morning I’ll do the one thing I know I’m good at…




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