Heart on a Windowsill

There was this moment in time when I went from I really like you to I want you in my life forever. I can remember exactly where I was: standing in front of the heater in the middle of my night, the moon shining through my windows, and tears streaming down my cheeks. What was it that flipped my mind from one thought to the other? I believe it was a moment when I let myself be vulnerable. When I made the conscious decision that this was what I wanted. For myself. For you. The hard part? You’re not mine to have. And you never will be. So away my heart flew to sit on the windowsill of one who can’t return my love. I won’t tell you any of this, not outright. Not unless you confronted me with it, asked me outright, because I refuse to lie. But I suspect that you don’t even know how I am affected by you. Maybe you’ll read this someday. Maybe you never will. I feel pretty safe speaking out my thoughts here on the net. Thousands of miles away from you. Part of me wishes I lived near you so that, if nothing else, I could catch glimpses of Love. Other parts of me thank god I don’t, for such torture I imagine it would be. Still other parts wish I wouldn’t have let my heart fly away to begin with. Admittedly, it was in ignorance I let it go. It had been with hope. But now I know that there’s actually no real hope to be had. The fact is, you aren’t mine. You won’t ever be. I’ve been trying to call my heart back unto me. Logic tells me it’s for the best; to come back, heal, start afresh. Yet my heart, she doesn’t speak the language of logic. She says fly with me or I’ll fly alone. The thing is, I can’t fly. And so, day after day, I look out my window. I’m searching for my heart’s lonely return. Sadly, I’m also watching, even now, across the ocean that separates us, for you to glance my way. Even when I know it can’t happen. And still. And still. There’s that flicker of longing. A spark of desperate pathetic hope.

tara caribou | ©2017

22 Comments on “Heart on a Windowsill

  1. The image of the heart, sitting on the windowsill of one it loves, unrequited, is a powerful one. Great writing!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. To hold or to let go of the heart is a difficult decision. Especially in our world where we only love until we don’t … then move one to try again with someone else. Then there is the pain of heartbreak. Who wants that?? Especially more than once!

    Liked by 1 person

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Robert Charboneau.

Writer and Artist

living document

a collection of short poetry from an autistic mind

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