Stranger

This time I am afraid it might actually be the end that I have avoided. But.. Why are you afraid? When she doesn't care? I don't know. I am afraid. Of losing her and her memories. Going back to being strangers again. Because you like her? No. I don't think it's so. It's something much more than that. Not a crush. Not a lover or a bond. It's love, yes. But— a love so pure it remains untouched by the other worldly desires. A love for the soul. An appreciation for the connection itself. The bond. The late night talks. The sense of comfort. As if nothing mattered except this way of the absurd. That sounds like love to me? No. You do not understand. I do not love her because I want to kiss her or be hers solely. I love her just because I can. A platonic love so strong, it defies the nature of "connection" the humans have made up. But why are you the only one feeling? Do you think she doesn't feel the same? No. She doesn't feel the same. I know because I know HER. I have known her without actually knowing her at all. She leads me blindly. Expecting me to trust whatever she does. She doesn't let me fall. But she doesn't let me see behind the mask of her facade. Why do you think she doesn't? Perhaps she is scared. Perhaps it just doesn't matter to her the way it matters to me. I will never know. Strangers.. don't know that. And perhaps it's better if I don't. Why are you saying that? I am comforting my soul. Because I know she will never let me in. I don't want to get hurt. I am protecting myself. She might feel the same though? She might be scared of losing you too? If you really believe in this connection so much, then don't you think it mattered to her too? Yes. To some point. It must have. But not enough to care. I bared my soul. She let me in through the gap in her door. Inside but barely where it belonged. I do not want to hurt me. I know if I talk to her now, it will just be another sadness in disguise. That I will be degrading that part of me I have always protected. I will have bared myself for another bruise in my heart. But— I am conflicted.. I want to talk to her too. I know I care. I know she doesn't. A sorry will make me feel whole again. Just once. Just a sorry. But I am not sure if I will ever get it? She doesn't see where she is wrong. I do not want to degrade that tiny dignified part of me. But I do not want an end inside an incomplete story. I do not want to be a stranger by the shore of her heart. But she didn't want to let me swim—right from the start. So.. for me? She is important. For her? I am just another page in her story. A stranger lost in the glory Aching to be felt. But.. Just another stranger inside this moving crowd of the ferry. ~Narcissist