  I tell you what, I can put together a clever sentence. Articulating my love for you, so that your heart will swell for knowing me, is a skill I perfected long ago. I can make you love me like you hadn't known you had the capacity for loving, just by telling you how I love you. And it isn't fair, because no one has ever made me feel that way. Not really. I've pretended, but, no, not really.
Once there was a man, with whom I believed I was in love, but I was wrong. He came closest. He thought himself a writer, so he tried very hard to move me. And he did, until I thought a bit about what he had written, and the bitterness of cliché, the aftertaste of previous use was sickening enough to make me wretch his sentiments into his lap. He was beautiful, I thought for so long. And his words were "deep"...before saying "deep" was sacrilege...and I wanted to fold myself into him and be cocooned by the words he had written about me.
All these beautiful things, about me, that he had seen--had looked deep down and seen when no one else had--almost fooled me into thinking I was what he needed and he was what I needed. When, actually, the universe never meant for the two of us to be together at all. If it did, I would be speaking to him now. When I thought, "My love..." his face would materilize in my mind. It doesn't. He does not know why and I can't tell him.
How do you say, without breaking a heart you don't want to break, "I see through you. Your body never makes good the promises your lips and pen entice me with. You could never be enough for me. " So, quietly, I left him. No explanation. No regret.
Never to seriously consider that baggage again. I walked away forever. Then there is the woman I know now, who backed me into a corner and forced me to declare my devotion to her. All she wants is friendship. All she wants is best friendship. All she wants is all of my time.
All she wants is all of my attention. I have never been able to really be what another woman wanted in a companion. There is no urgency, no pull, no fire in my belly when I think of women, as there is when I think of men. At best, there is a fleeting, syrupy sweetness that always hovers above the thin line separarting sincerity from the most humiliating patronization. With her, there are moments when I think we could be in one another's lives forever. But they never last.
She always speaks or breathes in such a way as to let me know my days with her are numbered. She senses this already. Told me so a few days ago, which compounds the ickiness the sight of her brings on. She said to me that she could tell I was searching for reasons to never talk to her again. Which is a pretty amazing insight for many reasons. First, because it happens to be true.
Second, because she isn't that bright, and I would never expect for her to be able to coherently express that kind of idea. That is, coherently express anything without saying, "You know what I mean? " or "I mean...you know? " or "Like...like...like..." You know what I mean. I wish I could keep her around, but I know she'll drive me crazy. She's so simple.
So happy. So...nice. And I am none of those things. But, sometimes, she makes me feel like I am nice and brilliant and lovable. And for that reason I wish I could keep her. If it weren't for her being herself, I think I would with no reservations.
Because I have loved her. But once I did, she wanted to be the only one I loved. That is it, I think. That I can't be chained to just one person, one anything. If I could be her "best friend"--her truest friend is what I would like to be--and not feel I had to constantly reassure her that I am, then things would be better. I will miss her when I go, if I go.
Maybe this is just a mood. Maybe I need her, and don't want to admit it for fear that she'll leave me when she figures it out. I can't say. I'll just have to see how things fall in or out of place. I can't shake feeling that she isn't enough, though. And I can't say what enough is, but I don't think I've found anyone who can tell me how they love me so that I feel like they feel when I tell them how I love them.
I love so hard, so thoroughly, so all of my everything. "I believe that my life's gonna see the love I give returned to me..." 
