I think i’ve got a million comments about the last sentence, but that’s the entire point to the poem. You fall in love with the feeling of being wanted, you fall in love with the places you visit, the routine, and mostly you fall in love with being comfortable. You are there because you want to be able to love that person, but you can’t force yourself, and you won’t. the last sentence is what makes this so perfect. it’s honest and a twist that you aren’t expecting and I love that in writing.
But I am not in love with you.
My hands are useless
and inaccurate,
too clumsy by far for
the delicate task
of holding on to you.
I miss longing for someone who will watch the sunrise with me. A sleepy voice waking me up at 5 a.m. saying, “I haven’t prepared breakfast, but I’d love to show you something as wonderful as you are,” dragging me outside to feel the warmth of the sun touching our faces.
I always dreamed of living in a beach, every second of my life serenaded by the sound of waves crashing on the shore and sea gulls hovering over the waters. I don’t know how to swim but I know I would be with someone who knows how to. Someone who will not teach me how to swim, but someone who would make me want to go underwater just so we could kiss.
I longed for someone I can count the stars with at night, when the vast cloudless sky watches us as we lie on the sand beneath it.
I long for that longing. I want to want that again. But I can no longer grasp the idea of hopefulness that I had forever — until you happened.
I want to believe he’s still out there. And not have this mindset that love has given up on me. My heart thinks otherwise, though.
I’ve given up on love.
Photo taken on San Juan, Batangas (c) Mich Angeles
