The Secret (rewrite)

No-one knows, as I never talk,
Of my aching love for you.
I keep it bottled, under cork
Where it is safe, and true.

A weakness, or insanity,
That I should fail to act?
It's not for pride, or vanity,
I am mired here with tact.

Oh, I wish I'd told you months ago
Win back the time we've lost,
But,alas, I took it far too slow,
To our detriment, and cost.

And yet, so simple, it should be
To set it out in words;
Paint it for you, lyrically
Like the other bees to birds.

Of course, I fear I'm not enough,
Wrong in a thousand ways.
Too nervous to blag it, off the cuff,
Lost in my nervous haze.

So, tis secretly you hold my heart
And, in sorrow, I stay quiet.
Dreaming that we are not apart,
As I was brave enough to try it.

The Fear

One of the things I find it hardest to do is to open up about my feelings on a one to one basis. If you're a regular visitor to my blog, you'll know that I have no problem expressing feelings in poems, or in the snippets of short stories I occasionally post here. However, I find writing things down all too easy, and indeed in poems the feelings of the self can be transformed into more generic comment on love itself, or the protagonist can become anyone, and the feelings universal.

How much more terrifying to speak to someone directly and address these issues. Now, I am not necessarily talking here about proclamations of adoration and love, though they would indeed fall into this category, but more generally than that, expressing how I feel in any capacity is extremely hard for me.

It doesn't really help matters that this opening up is exactly what I need to do to help out with my mental health issues. I would dearly love to be able to open up and talk one on one with those closest to me about the things I struggle with, my fears and shame at my own weaknesses. My friends and family will generally know when I am struggling, but I need to be able to convey how and why I am struggling, what I am struggling with. However, as much as I have played out conversations like this time and again in my head, I can never push myself to sit down with someone and have the conversation for real. I'm really not sure if it is fear of uncorking the bottle, or fear that my problems are too small and insignificant to trouble others with, but fear it is, and fear I am stuck with.

The silly thing is, I am not sure where the fear stems from. It is not as if I have a long history of wrongly trusting others with my feelings, I cannot recall any incident in truth where I have trusted someone and had it thrown back in my face. People are not as terrifying with your feelings as I imagine. Yes I have had my heart broken, haven't we all? But no-one has ever gone out of their way to hurt me, it has always been one of the unavoidable by-products of falling in love with at least one constituent out of sync (right time, right place, right person).

While we're on the subject of love.... I don't really find that easy either (unsurprising isn't it!) Have I ever said 'I love you' and meant it? Yes. Have I said those words to every person I have been in love with? No, guilty as charged. That bothers me. There exists, in this universe, undeclared love, and it is my fault it is undeclared. It has never had the chance to fly, because I have stifled it. In fear.

So, there we have it. I am an Old Yellow with my feelings. I need to change that, and (perhaps) writing it on here will serve as a reminder to me to man up and trust people. So, if you ever have me all to yourself, and you are frustrated as I am with my inability to express, remind me about this blog entry and tell me it is time to open up. Who knows? It might just work!

All the things I'd do for you (remix!)

I'd call you in the morning,
Because I miss your voice,
Or whisk you without warning
To destinations of your choice.

When I come, I'd bring you flowers,
And a book about Peru,
Y'know we could be there in twelve hours
Give or taking one or two.

On weekends we would wander
Under blue and sun-kissed skies,
Or I'd gaze at you and ponder
The depth and beauty of your eyes.

I'd take you out, carousing,
And wake with cloudy head.
Which is in itself arousing,
An excuse to stay in bed.

Of course I'd very often,
Turn up with a grin,
And watch you laugh and soften
At the foolish mood I'm in.

Oh, if only I could find the way
To tell you to your face,
That when I see you, any day,
My heart begins to race.