When I tell someone that I’m in love,
I think they expect some sort of ultimatum,
That should come right after,
As if just the act of loving you isn’t something big,
Isn’t something world-shattering,
As if my feelings for you without any actions don’t mean anything.
Maybe they’re right,
Maybe feelings without actions amount to nothing in the end,
But I don’t know, I don’t know what they expect exactly,
Do they expect me to want to have you?
As if you’re a thing to be had,
As if you’re an asset to be possessed.
Do I want to have you? Now, that’s the question,
And the answer is no, not really,
I don’t want to have you, I don’t have to have you,
And I know you don’t think of me,
At least not in the way that I think of you,
But the bottom line is, I don’t want you.
Can you love someone and not want them?
If you think it would do them better,
Then yes, you can love someone and not want them,
But the thing is, I would do anything for them,
Not for the fact they might be mine at the end,
But simply because they’re that gem of a person,
And they deserve nothing less than everything.
So yes, I don’t want you.
I do love you, though, genuinely,
If my feelings for you could be accounted to anything,
For example, a physical entity, to be touched and to be held,
Then, it would simply be impossible to touch or to hold,
It would be massive, and the universe would be overwhelmed,
And it would curse me, again and again, repeatedly, lasting seven eternities,
For growing something so heavy inside my heart, and with such adoration.
Because if loving you is considered a sin,
Then please, God, don’t make me repent.