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Table of Contents – Section 3: The Struggle & The Tension

(Italicized titles are prose reflections or story passages.)

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→Section 1: The Spark & The Pull
→Section 2: Falling In, Falling Hard
→Section 4: The Breaking Point
→Section 5: Grief & Longing
→Section 6: Acceptance & Transformation

Section 3: The Struggle & The Tension 

Vignette: Between Wanting & Letting Go

(Romantic letter about unrequited love, heartbreak, and the struggle of holding on vs. letting go)

Sitting at the morning stop, realizing that seeing you will only bring pain, has me wondering if I should ever come here again. For weeks, I stared out the window in anticipation of your arrival. Every day, I thought about what we would say to each other—how we’d smile, how happy we’d be. I always got nervous when you walked in. My heart lifted each time I saw your car pull in. I imagined we could have a life together.

I feared that pulling you away would bring too much emotion to bear. I thought that if I was patient, our emotions would settle, and that we could think more clearly—intoxicated by love. I also imagined you were seeking a way out—into my arms or far away. I didn’t want to push you away. I was buying time, hoping to find a way. Now I wonder—how long will this feeling of losing you last?

I fear the memory of you will fade—as if your absence could ever erase what you meant to me. I want what we had to mean something. I want to keep you in my mind for a very long time, forever. Otherwise, it will be as if we were empty, merely seeking the physical.

I wish I could steal you away.

Though circumstances did not favor us, it does not mean it was impossible. Maybe I’m just a dreamer, but sometimes dreams come true. I was willing to wait. I still am. Will you remember me? Do you want to forget me? I want to remember seeing you in the morning, anticipating seeing you later in the day. I want you everyday, for all the days I missed before we ever met, for all the times you wept alone, before I knew your love was my only home. You are more precious than my feet, as I only need my knees to plead for our everlasting love to last an eternity. 

I only wish to forget some grocery list or errand you asked me to do. Those are the only things I want to forget—never the memory of you. I used to tell you that time and patience would prove that our love was real. I don’t believe it has an expiration date.

Old feelings have a way of returning when we see or think of someone. How could I forget when I see you in everything I do—the coffee I sip in the morning, the sight of the moon—it’s all you. As I write these words, my heart aches, yearns, and seeks your return.

If I could take your pain, I would absorb it in an instant, digest it, and come back for more. It would feel better than the seconds I live in pain when I can’t sip or observe the moon out in the distance.

I believed I could ease your suffering by loving you unconditionally—my roller coaster of love—you could throw me in any direction—better than a life without your affection.

Now I am powerless. All I can do is hope you have the courage to face whatever adversity comes your way. I believe you do. You are strength wrapped in innocence—the hope that inspires visions.

You may never hold me again, but you will always exist in the spaces where our love once lived—in the morning coffee, in the moon’s quiet glow, in the breath between dreams.

Love on the Edge of Uncertainty

(Love does not fade. It waits. It lingers. It does not beg, but it does not leave.)

I saw it in her eyes—a quiet war, a hesitation wrapped in longing. She loved me. I knew that much. But love alone does not erase fear.

I wanted to pull her toward me, to tell her that I would wait, that I was already waiting. That she could come to me when she was ready, when the weight of the world was not pulling her away.

But love is not a thing to take—it is a thing to give. And I would not take what she did not offer freely.

She looked at me like she wanted me to make the choice for her. But I could not. I would not.

I wanted her. But more than that, I wanted her to choose me.

So I let the moment pass, hoping—believing—that love does not end just because it hesitates.

(Some loves do not fade. They live in the spaces where wanting meets waiting, where letting go does not mean forgetting.)

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Delicate Decisions

(Poem about hidden love, vulnerability, and the choice between protecting beauty or uncovering truth)

How do you feel about my love?
I have a small gift—a note hidden inside this paper napkin flower I made for you.
You could look and discover the hidden message, but you would destroy the creation made for you.

Both the flower and the note contain a truth,
both seek to communicate a feeling.
Both are vessels that carry life, with a heart and feelings inside.

Will you destroy the image to read a piece of my heart?
Or will you protect it and wonder what my heart reveals?

If you look, there will be nothing left—something gone, perhaps a regret.
But then you’ll know a truth of what I think of you.

Or you could forget this thing that seems like a test,
and simply admire the flower given to you alone,
for only you to hold.

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Sinful Lies and Sacred Truths

(Poem about timeless love, redemption, and devotion through trials and distance)

Maybe old lies were too sinful for new eyes.
Maybe my try is outdated and meant for a 
different time.

There was a time I could be something you 
wanted,
but now I’m like a criminal who’s wanted.
Dead or alive.
Always by your side is what I strive for.

I thought being there for you showed that I 
care,
because if I didn’t, I’d be gone.
Gone like the wind, like two kids insistent on 
eating the last biscuit.

Maybe I’m too simple-minded to see all my 
wrongs,
but I truly try to belong.
Words can’t do me justice when the core of 
our world is too deep to dig.

But I could sail the seas for you.
I could weather any storm the gods should 
seek to test me.

If my fate were to drown, just know I would 
give the best of me.
Returning to you would be my only mission.
I would paddle the Atlantic like a frantic ant 
resilient on existing.

Some things we may never see, but I beg 
you to believe me
when the words of affection that seep 
through me,
fall upon your ears in daylight rhymes and 
bedroom chimes.
Where our bodies meet between the sheets 
and our minds conceive of dreams.

I have belonged to you before my 
existence.
My love, forever yours to keep.
Always in reach no matter the distance.

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Salty Breeze and Unspoken Words

(Poem about longing, forgiveness, and eternal devotion amidst conflict and unspoken love)

Tender words intended for her,
but never heard in a world of hurt.
It’s about timing, they say —
wait another day.
Be patient,
be brave.

Let the world know you exist,
so they can feel your words.
Or let it be,
and let life be the victory.

Far from me,
I thought about you
and wondered if the salty sea breeze
could stop me from swimming in air.

Because nothing can stop thoughts floating in air —
and nothing can stop me
from showing I care.

Not even words of despair,
as you gripped your hair
when our thoughts clashed
and shattered beyond repair.

I wished to soothe the pain.
My words appeared in vain.

I hope you see
that I will always be there for you —
the only love I’ve ever known,
the only woman I’ll never disown,
the only decision worth a lifetime of yearning.

Take my skin and twist it;
whatever sound comes out,
know it’s only yours you’re twisting.

Would you dare?
I could never.
But if you did…
know I’d kiss your hand
and tell you I understand.

My mind, my body, my soul —
your man.

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Love and Illusions

(Some loves are lessons disguised as fate. Some wounds never close—they only fade, waiting to be remembered.)

I had seen love like this before—a love that burned too bright, too fast. A love that felt like fate but carried the weight of illusion.

There are moments when echoes of the past whisper through the present. A familiar flicker of warmth. A touch of déjà vu. And for a moment, I wonder—will this be different? Or will I find myself once again standing in the ruins of something I swore was real?

Love, when it is pure, does not ask you to question yourself. It does not leave you waiting in doubt, searching for truth in a maze of half-spoken words and fading affection. But I had been there before, loving someone who loved in shadows, someone who made promises in whispers but disappeared in silence.

I wanted to believe this time was different. That I was not doomed to repeat history.

But love makes fools of men. It makes dreamers out of those who swore they would never be deceived again.

(And yet, despite everything, I still believed. I still wanted. I still loved.)

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Between the Blue and the Dark

(Poem about heartbreak, gaslighting, emotional turmoil, and love lost between hope and betrayal)

Your mood changed between night and day.
Some days were plain, while others, it rained.
When the days were blue, I could see you
clearly—
The sun was bright, helping things grow high.

But when darkness fell,
you sparkled light,
like dying stars in pitch-black night.

Our fate—a constellation of surprises,
with shooting stars and landmark scars.

I loved both night and day.
Both gave rise to dreams.
Both needed the other to
succeed.
Vanquish the sun and nothing would grow;
eliminate darkness and all would turn to
ashes.
A delicate balance for harmony to exist.
A universal certainty—
a law of eternity.

If given a choice, I would’ve chosen you
any day over a warm sun,
or a majestic cosmic serenity.
I would have traveled to hostile territories,
journeyed into foreign dimensions.
I would have welcomed the anguish—
an experience less frightening than a life
without you.

But just when I thought our love was
mutually true,
I realized it was all a lie—
a dark, calculated disguise.
I was misguided by the lights I thought
shone bright for me.
What I thought was clear was, all along, a
dark mystery—
a gaslight trick on me, a furious comet
aimed at the heart and soul of the inner me.

Whatever happened to blue skies and
friendly nights—
the ones where we saw the world in all
directions, with different inflections,
only to have our love poisoned with
vicious infections?

If there was a cure, I sought to detect it.
I sacrificed myself thinking it was the only
way.
But my soul wasn’t enough to fill the void.

We needed a different way—a path less
traveled.
A direction we were lost to. A broken
compass.
Blinded by the sun, hidden by clouds
beneath the stars.
Time travelers captured by the gods—
dark forces lured human imperfections.
Seeking remedies for our pain. A life void of
God. In the end, Judgment came to claim.

Whether there was a cure, we’ll never know.
Just know I would’ve roamed all roads
until we found our peaceful home.
My commitment to you was to last an
eternity.
I made a promise to never turn away,
to never run away.
Yet shattered dreams refused to fade.

Our tango required two.
Instead, we punished our missteps
and never learned to move as one.
Our union ceased once the music faded.
Where love once was slowly turned
to hate.

After all the lies, there is a memory that
persists—
a blue sky shrouded by a
dark disguise—
a love lost beneath a magnificent sky.
A darkness which revealed eternal light.
A love that was lost in plain sight.

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Red Passion, Burning Truth

(Poem about passion, resilience, heartbreak, and the enduring fire of love through pain and adversity)

The color is red, known as the passionate color of love.
It’s a sharp, piercing color, one that captures attention,
one with the power of a nuclear engine.
You ignite me on sight,
a firestorm of delight in a room full of thorns.

You’re a kite as I’m high on life.
Fly me recklessly as I’m battle-torn and messy.
I give you the best of me,
a mission to Mars if you test me.
I’ll fear no contest or quest if you bless me.
Your eyes, the fuel I desire,
it’s the substance I admire.

Through the fire lies a life,
one built upon the ashes of the past,
a memory put to rest.
New room for potions to be brewed,
medicines of truth, darkness and its clues.

Will the lips that drew me in forever be rouge,
or will time oxidate its seductive hues?
I may as well leave my dreams to rest
when storms are known for taking breaths.
But it’s not becoming.

A soul must continue, even in the face of death.
Quitting is for the inept – a test of the devil – 
a sea of weeping dreams that have accepted defeat.
No retreat and no surrender.
No way out but through the fire.

I’ll accept the pain as I’ve made my decision – 
to love you no matter how hard the inquisitions.
Otherwise, life is just an empty existence.
One where the fruits of adversity will never taste your lips—
the red I have bled for.

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Love as a Blessing and a Curse

Love does not always arrive gently, nor does it leave without taking something with it. Some loves are a gift, others a lesson—most, a little of both.

She was a blessing in every way, yet something in me knew—love like that does not come without consequence. It burns, it marks, it lingers.

Even now, I wonder—was she meant to stay, or only to remind me of what love could be before slipping beyond my reach?

(And still, I would choose her again.)

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The Blessing and the Curse

(Poem about love, fate, destiny, mystery, passion, danger, and the dual nature of blessings and curses in relationships)

Something pure and hopeful.
A ball of energy, a potential.
A kinetic chain with the internal might
of a locomotive train.
A girl with a cast diamond heart,
protected like a pearl.

A one-of-a-kind in this world.
If she opens up—you won’t find another.
Won’t need another.
Only your heart will flutter.
If you have any sense, 
you would immediately ask yourself
how you found this treasure.

There were no maps to discover,
no clue from a dream.
Just a mystery and magic one seldom sees.
She’s a treat in a box
and a rose that grows on the rocks.
She’s an ancient buried treasure,
and your luck is where X marks the spot.

Maybe it’s fate or a mystery deed.
But better open your eyes,
because this one knows how to fight.
Remember, luck is just the beginning.
Smile too wide and you just might discover
a biblical tide which sneaks from behind.

You won’t be able to run.
Not towards her, or away from her.
She’s the blessing you didn’t deserve,
and the furious curse you’ll regret if you hurt her.

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Watching in Red

(Poem about observation, color, perception, symbolism, presence, and the silent act of watching life unfold)

She rode in blue
and walked out in beige.
He drove in black
and walked out in green.
I sit and watch
while writing in red.

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