This is Me Asking

All I ever wanted was for you to say we we were the same. To say we fit like puzzle pieces. To say we were destiny spun up in a whirlwind of hope and forever. 

All I ever hoped was for you to see me through the same haze of love and adoration through which I saw you. 

We fell apart a thousand times, and I always seemed to be left alone, picking up the broken pieces that sliced open my hands and my heart. 

Now, all the words I wanted reserved for my reverent ears only, have been spilled out to the world. I feel like I'm hanging on a string, perilously close to falling. Again. 

I was right though, about you. All your silence, all your darkness, all the issues running through you like blood in your veins. I was right. 

You sent an open invitation to over a thousand people. An invitation calling them to ask. To say. To tell. To hold you accountable for their confusion. And my fingers are itching to tear you apart. To beg for resolution. To ask for another chance. To demand you explain what you ever felt, if anything, for me. My heart is tearing at the seams, trying to pull itself from the hollow spot in my chest and race to you. But my brain is scrambling backwards, reeling, grappling for control. 

My biggest question, is how do I reconcile this tearing in my chest and aching in my head? How do I ask you all the things I want to know? How do I begin to explain my twisting, ever changing confusion that melds with my affection? 

I don't even know what to ask. I've waited so long for an open door, for a chance to get inside your heart and figure out what you were thinking. Now that it's here, I'm not sure I want to know. The hopeless romantic in me sings that this is fate, and your way of calling me home to your arms. The cynic in me is screaming it's a trap. 

My worst nightmare is that you'll say you never cared. That I was fun to play with but you've graduated to bigger, better toys. My worst nightmare is you not wanting me when all I want is you. 

I saw your darkness before you said it was there. I was willing to help you fight it off, for I have darkness of my own that I'm learning to tame. I say "I was" but I mean "I am". 

I am willing. I am still here. I am always going to want you. I am waiting for you to tell me you want me. I am waiting to hear that you saw this and knew I was speaking of you. I am here, ready, willing  and wanting to be yours. But you have to let me in.

You speak of being closed off, of having trust issues, but you can trust me. You can always trust me. Even if you don't want to. Because there will always be a space for you in my universe. It might orbit farther away and then come home to slam in my chest, but it will never disappear, it will never be filled. 

I'm floating out here, dangling above the world from a worn and weary thread. 

Please tell me it's safe to come down. 

Please tell me I'll find solid ground.