The beginning is what scares me; Where thoughts somehow transit back to your perfect stranger as if addicted, as if every second lived was about a fix, a single moment of ecstasy.
Together, he and she are electric, effusive, and emitting flames. His stare can burn, her heart can glow, but that passionate fire is going to be tamed, if not by time, then by the rain.
It's this infatuation that scares me. Or maybe it's the days that come after. To truly love another person for everything he or she believes, acts and is--that I can honestly say, will take more than me. It will take God. It will take us both individually seeking His face, His guidance, and His (not the world's) way of Love.
It's this that scares me. Because I am determined to have that; To be completely one with my husband in the purest form possible... and yet, I am dancing with you.
You, who listens to another song, who sings to different lyrics and sways to a worldly beat.
You, who despite this, despite advice, I can't seem to leave. So I continue to pray that maybe, just maybe you'll hear His song, and you'll search for the only words worth listening to.
If I end up scorched, then so be it. It's not the tragedy in this story.
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