I've done well, my love, to stay away from the hotel, <br />until the other morning. Heartsick and betrayed, <br />I sat staring (with an eerily calm serenity) <br />at the mundane structure <br />where we had spent so many lustful nights. <br /> <br />Waking from sleep's sweet envelope <br />next to the strongest, <br />most tender man, <br />I have ever known. <br /> <br />Vulnerable in his embrace, <br />falling into the vacuum of his seclusive nature. <br />Deflecting his bad temperament with my casual grace. <br />I found a common ally: <br />a best friend for 3 simple stupid succulent months. <br /> <br />Until I came to a pivotal conclusion. <br /> <br />You cannot make someone love you, <br />but you can make them want to; <br />which, to me, is better than having their love. <br /> <br />I would rather the will be there <br />because will is hope, <br />hope is potential, and potential exists— <br />in the land where promises are kept alive. <br /> <br />I curse many things about myself, <br />except for the utter compulsion to feel alive. <br />When love happens, there is a bending of the will— <br />an intolerable surrender where everything breaks: <br />hearts, promises, hope.<br /><br />s./j. goldner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-argument-against-having-and-wanting/
