My Lover

My lover is coming home. He doesn't know he's my lover but he is, has been for a long time. He thinks he's coming just to borrow a DVD, but he's really coming home to see about me.

He's been gone almost a year. I hurt so much when he left;the way he left -- right around my birthday -- I wept a deep soulful cry, a doubled over pain that torn my insides, left me sad, hurt, empty and forgotten. Until the day he left me, I was alive again, a natural woman. He was here for nine month and I was glad most the time he was living along side me.

My lover cared for me, helping me through my brokenness, carrying my wheel chair up and down the steps, looking away when I had to crawl. We shared time, laughed and told corny jokes. We ate together at tables, on benches, by candle lights.

When I take the courage, I wait and hope for his return; I believe we are together.I call his name out loud and weep at the loss of him. I laugh at memories, taking courage to dream.

My lover doesn't want me to love him sometimes but my love is mine and I give it; I want to love him -- even if he decides not to love me back.