#processing love

I am not one to process emotions well or quickly or consistently. I don't like a lot of stimuli, yet I cannot handle stagnation or a colorless, tasteless moment. I'm so sorry I am hard to love sometimes; I struggle to understand what I am supposed to feel and do. I am committed to being truthful to myself and to you, and sometimes that means admitting I want to dig my fangs into you. I feel untamed, feral, and cornered when I try to love you. I do not understand how to be a doll or a delicate flower or an enchanting melody. I only understand narrowed eyes, stiff lips, and the cool air of your breath on my neck if I turn my back on you.

I love you in the way a lion is not the strongest, fastest, or smartest beast, but is one a widely respected predator nonetheless. I love you in the way it is dangerous for a water buffalo to cross deep rivers, but still strides in because of instinct and need. I love you in the way a pack of wolves keeps its strongest members at the back when traveling, so the weak are not left behind.

I try to sit down and draw you casually,

But I get obsessed in the details.

Anytime I put pen to paper,

I seem to fail.

How am I supposed to show all the ways I see you?

There’s everything to admire.

My eyes continue to dart and dance,

Like one gets lost to the glow of a fire. 

So instead, I’ve settled for something a little less,

Cause I just have to get it off my chest.

Do you know how many emotions you cause us? In the late hours of night we cannot sleep because your face remains on blast through our mind. Your sweet face and heart send our own into overdrive.

Unsure of our emotions, we are left a mess: wanting to run away, wanting to cling and stay.

Did you know that our emotions pour out of us through every limb? Feet bouncing, heart fluttering, mouth smiling, fingers grasping. We want it all to stop, yet the process would be sure to start all over again.

Do you realize how much we love you? It’s a scary thing to think about.

You are so wonderfully good for us, we think. (I’d hate to be wrong) We know we deserve the best, but to say we deserve you? I don’t know.

I know we are lovable and that we deserve all that is good in the world. We are just scared of any possibility in which that good is taken away.

The Owl: Why is it hard for people to be kind?

Care a little.

Show a little love.

The Wolf: They do show a little but we show too much. So much that theirs becomes insignificant.They start to feel like they're not enough and stop making efforts.

The Owl: But they should just be encouraged.

We try to help them grow and in return they tell us we're drowning them.