One Man

Have I ever told you about my fascination for men in uniform?

Of course not. Because I don't have that fascination.

I know of some girls who love men in uniform. You know, army, pilot, air force, and all that.

Not me. It's always the crisp suit that gets me. The tie and shiny shoes. The pressed shirt. Kept hair. The big shot impression. It's always that.

I'm always for men of power. That can hold his own. Call the shots. I'm all for that.

I had always wanted a man I could rely on. A man who holds his stance. Who has his own mind. Who has it figured out. Who knows what he wants and goes for it.

Someone who's not afraid to make the first move. And will just brush it off and laugh if turned down.


Enough of all this. Truthfully, I'm hiding. I'm hiding from what really is. And what is real is my fear and incapability of commitment. That is it, I know now. That's why I run. I always run. I always build that thick brick wall. The thing is, I don't know why. Or maybe I do. Maybe it's the hurt I can't stand.

Is it true that love is supposed to hurt? Then , I wouldn't want to love. I really wouldn't. Because the more you love someone, the more hurt you can get with every single mistake. So I'm blocking it. Is it me? Perhaps it's me. I'm sure it's me. It's me, no doubt about it.

But why? Why me? Why does it just have to hurt so damn bloody much, sometimes? So much it turns physical. And then I try to run again. And again.

Ugh! Doesn't anyone know when to let go anymore these days? Or how. There is a beauty in walking away. We all know that.

Help me, kids. I'm pleading not to hurt this much anymore. Begging.



LoVe~
MzP<3