I don’t have a love like that.
Thought I did, once.
Maybe I should make one up?
I could, but
Would it have the same hold,
The same power and depth of feeling
If it only existing in my mind?
Although my mind takes its direction from my heart,
Is my heart to be trusted?
Would I make the fantasy so good that every reality thereafter would be a disappointment?
But then, isn’t that inevitable anyway…
A remembered event is most often better than the event itself.
In looking back, my memory adds flavor and substance to one who really was without either.
He was just a shell of my creation, a vessel for me to
Fill with what I wanted him to be.
I made the vessel strong to hold what I needed, or so I thought.
It was my error. The vessel of my own making wasn’t up to the task.
So as payback for my mistake, I continue to miss something I never had,
To love someone who didn’t exist and to cherish a love that wasn’t returned.
How could it have been?
It was only a fantasy and
Faith in a fantasy is as
Empty and sinking as the leaky vessel that carries it.
We are supposed to learn from our mistakes.
Or so I’m told.