Secret

More unrequited love rantings

I love you.
I wish I didn’t love you, for this love brings me no joy.
But there it is. I do. I can’t help it. I love you.

I don’t love you openly.
There will be no roses, no loud declarations,
And you’d never see me jumping on a sofa for you.
I don’t love you sweetly.
In fact, quite the opposite.
This is a dark, consuming love,
It’s like ink dropped into water
And swirling its way round and round until all is black.

No, you are a secret love.
I keep you in my heart and carry you with me,
And my mind flickers back to you often.
I dwell for hours on tiny things you say,
And see your face sometimes when I sleep.

Not obsession.
Not adoration.
Not hero-worship.
Not a crush.
I love you, and will love you,
Always in secret.