The bravado is mostly facade...and other words I can't tell you.

I'm writing this here because you won't read what I have to say if I say it anywhere else. And, as I assume is preferable, I won't have to know when or if you've read it..

All the words I want to use I have used already. Nothing I want to say can be said. The words that come to mind have been tainted with other meanings. There are things I want to tell you that can only be told with a kiss. There is wisdom I cannot understand because I have little experience with the languages of love and the universe. I want be able to explain myself and my actions. I want to be able to reconcile with you. But now my words are blotchy. I deal too often in absolutes. I have simple thoughts but only bulbous words to express them. I want you to know so many things. I can only hope that day will come.

I can't tell you that I love you because you won't believe me and people tell me it isn't the right thing to say any more. I should move on and find someone who is willing to commit to me, they say. I don't want to listen to them because you are my perfection and, although the freedom of choice gave me an initial rush, no one compares to you. I do not want to settle. I worried about one thing, we didn't understand each other, and then everything blew up.

I can put on my tough face and splatter the internet with exclamations of my strength and bravado, but it is mostly a facade. What I want is understanding. What I really want is you. It is true that I can be happy without you, but I have a much greater capacity for happiness when you are with me. What really kills is that it appears to be so easy for you to forget about me. Your happiness is still intact. I suppose that's my fault for doing everything I could to force you to miss me. Bravado doesn't suit me, does it?