Your eyes into mine. The way you look at me. Your hand on my face. Your body on mine. Our lips. Our arms. Our warmth.

I never meant to ruin any of it. Any of your images of me. Your hopes for us.
I am never going to be your white sheet. I am never beautiful inside out.

I am scarred... battered and bruised by life. By men. By people who love me and leave. By people I love and loved

I smile, and I talk about them, and I talk to them. I pretend nothings happened between us, because I have to. Because I have to. Forgiveness is not a luxury I have to bestow at my own prerogative.

I have to... to live.

Im sorry. Im sorry that my past clashes with our present. That I cannot give you a fresh start.

I am sorry that I am the knife searing your happiness.

I watch you. See you. Across the table, looking away. All I want is to touch you. All I want is to kiss you. All I want is to love you.

Our past conversations. You telling me you dont know if its serious, if Im jumping the gun, if Im planning on us spending together forever. You saying you dont trust me.

Hurts. Me.

I think of you on the phone, talking to someone else, to a life you left behind, easy love you left behind. Familiar faces, familiar kisses, familiar hugs. You tell me you dont want to hurt her.

You talking to her, not telling her, hurts. Me.

I think of all that and I build it up again. The walls surrounding my heart. Fence the open fields.

You dont have to worry about us spending together forever. I think your answer to that conversation is long over. I will enjoy the luxury that is now.

And I will love you for the seconds we have