He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

Wait Forevermore

Have you ever once considered once how she felt?

How much torture it put her through as you told her she had to wait?

Did you ever once consider how her heart bled in agony as she waited and longed for you?

How her lungs ached for air as she gasped and drowned in the waters of your misleading affection?

When she hung from the cliff of unreturned love, you pulled on her hand to save her, but left her to find her own way in the forest of your confusing antics.

She lashed out and groped around to try and find a life buoy, but it was like trying to find a screw in a pile of nails.

Almost impossible.

Yet on she treads through the forest, watching with uncertainty at the rustling leaves before her, taking each step with caution.

The light peeking through the trees grow dimmer as she continues to search for you, but you leave her stranded.

You leave her with no other plan of escape;

You leave her no trail, except for maybe that made of bread crumbs, that the sparrows do soar down to eat up; leaving her with a false sense of security even if for only a moment.

In the end, she knows that even that small trail of crumbs shows that you share some sort of deep affection, for any other would have left her nothing.

So on she presses, hoping to undermine the deep and dark secret of interest that she knows plagues your soul;

The secret that she knows will give her the answer to reaping or destroying her heart.

And yet still, she holds it out to you like a fool, trembling with eager hands that you might care for it, hold it, love it.

And deep, deep down, she knows that while you return this feeling of utmost love and adoration, she must wait. . .

And wait. . .

And wait forevermore. . .