In my soul I know I've gotta lose my love for you, but I can't let you go, no matter how impossible you are, no matter how toxic I know it is to live my life in waiting for your lips, to lose my mind in the times you don't commit your all to me as I do to you.
To you I'm just a fantasy that you can live out on demand - you assuming you're the same to me when you're all-consuming in my mind. I'd burn away the world for you; for me you might just start a fire. Yet knowing I delude myself, I still act like you could be mine.
My heart beats faster whenever you're online, but then I get upset when you don't respond in time - 'in time', of course, is something arbitrarily defined. This whole thing's a one-way minefield of personal design. I lash out with silent treatment, like a child, when you retreat into your life, as if you had defiled some sacred bond - some shared unspoken truth - when in fact everything we've left unsaid is unknown, not proof.
When I close my eyes I see you under me, over me, beside me in my embrace - paws clasped and tails entwined - devotion splayed across your face. Future and present fluid and tamed, I see my life stretch on until I'm dying in your arms, my eyes closed not by fear, but calm. Such grand romantic yearning I haven't felt in quite a while - probably says a lot about the way you make me smile how so few have ever done, but I digress.
When I say I am in love with you I mean it. But I don't say it, I hide it, plain as day, in places you will never see. Not that it's much a secret - you might guess if you were asked - but the fact it's left unstated lets us pretend that it's not fact. The mass of miles between us act as adhesive to the cracks while the existence of your partner protects you from my advance.
I still daydream of meeting you and dancing through the night, of touching, feeling, grinding up, leaning in to bite, of kissing your neck, your cheek, your muzzle - I know you wouldn't mind. I'd kiss you on your open mouth and drag you back to mine, where I'd profess my love for you, and you'd respond in kind.
When I wake from the illusion, I feel like I could cry. No matter if I do or don't, part of me always dies. God, it's crushing me, it's killing me, knowing like I do that every path I take will end with me not loving you, and not because you're undeserving, but because this is unrequited, impossible, amoral love, and in my soul I know: I've gotta lose my love for you.
But I can't let you go.
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