This Time, My Love Is A Choice

man and woman dancing at center of trees
Scott Broome / Unsplash

His love was my obligation. He refused to let me go; telling me how much he loved me as I felt my mouth run dry, my teeth clench, my heart race, my blood run cold. The cherished words could never escape my lips, out of fear that my feigned affection would become a grand exposé, revealing me as a fraud as choked on my words.

I wish the precious words had flowed from my tongue like honey, but all I wanted was an escape, a hideaway, a retreat concealed beneath his fragrant rose petals.

His love was my illusion; a private show of playful teases that never materialized into anything more. It was nothing but a convincing appearance; a passionate dance around the truth.

I never loved him. I merely relished his desperate, constant affections; convincing myself to remain by his side to evade his eventual heartbreak.

As he clung to me, latched on and refused to let go, I unsuccessfully attempted to escape the flames, to flee from the obligation to love him, but I found myself stuck in place, remaining locked to his delusions. As I groped for a lifeline, hopelessly caressing his fragile, aromatic petals; the subtle hues of deceptive love, my liberty wilted before me.

But, this time, my love is a choice.

He is nothing but a faint memory; the hazy morning following a broken fantasy. This time, my heart, certain even in its weary fragility, chooses you.

You are a dream come to life; blooming with colorful vivacity, painting the evening sky with broad strokes of rose and coral. Your kind heart calms the frenzied unrest that consumes my soul. Your gentle touch soothes the turmoil that lurks within my mind. Your soft words cleanse my spirit, washing away the insecurities that plague my being.

You are the love I long to hold in my heart forever; the adoration I fervently hope to return to you. You are the genuine wonder of newfound passion; the joy of tender hugs, sweet kisses, and intimate touches. You are raw in your unfathomable depth; true in your vehement vulnerability.

You know nothing of force, refuse to familiarize yourself with desperation. All you know is the simple power of ease; the soft sensation of my muscles relaxing into yours, the delicate strength of your hand in mine, the gentle music of our laughter.

At last, I speak the coveted, honeyed words freely; without hesitation, without obligation. I no longer deceive, conceal myself behind a foggy smokescreen, feign the truth. I melt into you; relishing my newfound liberty, the agency to untangle myself from his corrosive love and give you my heart. This time, my love is a choice, and I will choose you forevermore. TC mark

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