I know I'm still in love with you, even though there's anger inside me.
It's this constant battle, one that's affecting me more than you might realize.
It's changing me in ways I can't explain, and the worst part is, I'm suffering alone in all of it.
Sometimes I pray to God to make you mine. But sometimes, I pray for the opposite.
I ask God not to bring you to me.
Because you've become an obsession now.
If I somehow get you, I'm scared of how I might love you this time.
You shaped the person I am today, and I'm not sure you'd want to see what I've become.
I'm consumed by you, completely overwhelmed by everything about you.
But despite the anger, despite the obsession, I know deep down that you've made me better in ways I never imagined.
Yet, this love comes with a cost.
One day, I decided to buy something for you.
It was my little hope, a token of what I wanted to give you when you were free again, free from that mess you're in.
Maybe it was selfish of me to wish for your breakup, but I couldn't help but dream that the day you were single again, I would be there, ready to propose to you with that gift.
The gift? "It was an anklet."
Simple, beautiful, like you.
It's not as perfect as you are, of course, but I knew it would suit you.
The moment I saw it, I knew it belonged to you.
But here's the thing... that anklet?
It's still with me. It's waiting.
Either I will give it to you when you're ready to say yes, or I'll never give it to anyone at all.
It will always be yours, even if I never get the chance to place it around your ankle.
It will stay with me forever as a reminder of what could have been.
It doesn't belong to anyone else. It never will.
Sometimes, I think my expectations are unrealistic.
But when I really think about it...
I realize they're not unrealistic. They're just specific to what I truly want.
That anklet, the one I chose with so much hope, isn't just a gift. It's a symbol of everything I've ever wanted with you.
I picture the moment I'd finally give it to you, when you're free from the mess, when you're mine.
I'd see it wrapped around your ankle, sparkling like the connection we once shared.
But if that moment never comes, it will stay with me forever.
It belongs to you, even if you never wear it. It's my silent promise.
And that's why the anklet is still waiting...
YOU ARE READING
It's all about Her
RomanceWhat a wonder it is that you might not have a single clue that someone somewhere, from the core of their heart, writes about you. Maybe a secret admirer or a long lost friend, How you lie in the words of their poetry, in each phrase until the end. I...
