Night time thoughts

Please let it be you who's meant to be mine

   My love for you is like weeds. I am the rouge gardener. I use to pull the tiny sprouts of the undesirable. Little seedlings of feelings that were not allowed. The speeding up of my heart when you smiled. The silent ache to be in your arms. At first I let them grow for a little before weeding them out of the garden of my emotions. Believing these things to only be a normal human need for affection. One day when I looked closer I almost gasped aloud. This thing that I haven't been to concerned with was actually feeling for you. When I realized this the weeding became more frequent. Reprimanding myself every time my face heated at the mention of you. It became exhausting. Pushing it down, hiding it away. It always came back so why not let them grow? After a week of growing the urges to kiss your lips became stronger. The tug at my wrist that if not fought against would end with my arms around you.
   "See where it goes..." a small voice urged. Maybe it was some forgotten god of good things, maybe it was simply my own curiosity. Either way I listened. When my new found feelings exploded and took over, I squeaked when my happiness flourished with in it, I gasped as memories became entangled in tendrils and dreams were ruled by moments of us. Everything seemed better. Brighter. Even if  you weren't mine at least I could talk to you and see you smile. When the feelings grew into love I decided not to hide it anymore. You rejected me which I'll admit was like chemical being sprayed on my love and making it shrink back. Though I kept nurturing it and it grew even more. My love for you is like a weed. Wild, free, fast growing, and relentless. At the time 'love' was labeled as a weed in my garden of emotions. It was unwanted and unnecessary. But when I let it grow it became the center piece. I love you and even if we hadn't ended up together I still would have loved you.