My Little Lost Boy

What do you do when you realize that the man you love is just a little lost boy?

It was agonizing to watch him break down that way.

I don’t mind saying that I am always cynical in the face of his declarations of love and devotion.  I return them but I try and keep it real.  Injecting doses of reality into romance kills it but at least it keeps one grounded.  Or so I tell myself.

Yet, tonight, I was helpless in the face of his misery.  It’s a little daunting to watch a six foot guy dissolve into tears in front of you and you being helpless to do anymore than just hold him.

My own grief?  That comes later.  His tears did more than tell me that maybe the love he says he feels for me is real.

His tears also told me that the time when he could maybe take a stand for me is not too close.  And even when the time comes, there is no guarantee of him and me being any more than what we are today… unnamed, unrecognized.

His tears told me that for all we mean to each other, we may never be.

His tears told me that for all I may do to have him with me, at the end of it, I may be alone.

His tears today may very well be my tears tomorrow…  Except that I wiped his tears away and kissed his brow and held him as he tried to gain control…  I doubt anyone will be there to wipe my tears away…

For one who believes as strongly as I do in being the mistress of my own destiny, it stuns me to see my greatest defeat in the eyes of another…

1 Response to “My Little Lost Boy”

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June 2009

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