Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Invalid

"I love you" can never be vocalised, only shown in the subtlest ways. Every little moment is cherished because it's given without obligation, being in the most natural element. You want and yearn, but can never lay claim. The greatest content is that he's happy, even if it means being with someone other than you. It hurts not to be reciprocated, but being unselfish is the best form of love you can give. You don't want to know anything about the other party, but can't help wondering who she is. Jealousy shrouds, but it calms the heart and mind to know that at least she makes him happy, and that's what really counts at the end for you.

You can't touch, can't feel, and can't tell. You can't give too much of yourself away in case the truth got out. You can't give what you'll like to give because it's not right. He belongs to someone else, that's what the society tells you. You hate that internal struggle between right and wrong. And just what is right and what is wrong?

It's tough loving an invalid. It's a flame burning passionately which you don't want to put out. The fervour keeps you going and the desire glows intensely. A raw animalistic element which makes you want to take off that coat of defence and morality to embrace and consummate the desire, throwing all caution to the wind and exposing all vulnerabilities.

The forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden.

I want him but I can't have him.

An invalid in more than one way, but I love him still.

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