She doesn´t have to tell me her stories to let me know what she has been through; we are not different from one another; she has feelings, and I have that too. I love to spend my time in her presence. I used to tell her how rare the moments are once we´re alone together with no interruption from the outside world. It´s a privilege and should be enjoyed by the most. When she is off guard, I would steal a glance and lock myself into her gaze, and I could see what is hidden there behind those mysterious eyes.
Shhs, don´t tell her! She is not supposed to know that I wish the same for her, as she wants for herself. Oh, don´t bother to ask, her thoughts, it´s a secret that she would never tell. How do I know about her secret? To be honest, I don’t. I assume, that she has a reason to keep it to herself, what I understand is that it belongs to her and it’s hers all alone. Why must I make a fuss and demand to know something that’s rightfully hers all along?
When she talks and tells me her fairytales, I´m all ears, listening attentively to everything she says. I would nod and smile, and other times I would get upset and surprised!
These men, why didn´t they appreciate her devotion? Didn´t they understand she´s most beautiful when she´s free and wild? It´s absurd to think she has to be controlled and suffocate her with compromises and rules. And how could they avoid to look into her eyes and see her longing for a sacred union? Didn´t they look past her cold act? Didn´t they understand, it´s her armor she wears to protect herself. Oh, yes, she´s strong, there´s no doubt about that, but she´s still a little girl who is easily bruised and hurt at heart. Did they, somehow mistaken her kindness for weakness?
Why didn´t they respect her space when she needs it without fussing and fighting, and blame her for being cold and careless? Don´t they know? She cares too much without realizing that she does? It´s the world she carries on her shoulders, oh my, I wonder if she knows. Sigh, how can they possibly demand to deserve her at her best, when they couldn´t handle her when she´s at her worst? Why are they so wishy-washy when they suppose to be men who lead the way and knows her worth?
But what do I know? I´m only a woman or more like a wombman. I am without strength to carry her in my arms, or brave enough to protect her from highwayman. What can I do, when all I do is to love. My love can´t wipe away her tears or carry her burden, and it can´t do a thing when she doesn´t want to receive it, I know, it’s useless to use force against her precious heart. I refuse to use force against her will. That´s not how I love and surely not something I would be proud of doing.
All these things I could have done for her, and more by being her devotee, the only thing left is to pray to God; let her meet someone who knows her worth and have ambitions to rebuild this world. Let him be a fair man with justice and elegance. Let him be diplomatic and wise beyond his years. Let him seek not to hurt but to mend broken hearts and kindle a spark in peoples dream, and mostly hers, when she sees no other way to make her dream come true.
Let him be of air to cool her temper down, and makes summer breeze in her winter heart. Let him be brave enough to be himself, and sees past her armor. Because this man must know what lies in there and seize the moment, to give her courage to be who she is meant to be, a Divine being with much love to share. Let him see the comedy in every drama, so he can uplift her spirit and ease her fear.
In the end, her happiness is what I cherish the most. If I could, I would give her my all, but what I have got she doesn’t want at all. So I pray she will find someone who would love her the way I did or even better. Because she deserves all the love she can get in this brutal cold world.