The Colonial

A Lover

Jocelynn Dow

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Sometimes I wish I had a Lover:

Someone who makes my heart beat like a drummer,

Someone whose laugh makes my stomach flutter,

but, then again, it terrifies me,

How do you love a Lover if you never had a lover before?

What if they don’t love the way my love can be?

I don’t want to be too hard to get or too easy

Or move too fast or move too slow

What if I become too distant or too clingy?

What if I wasn’t what they were looking for?

If I just turned out to be a bore?

Or if they just wanted me, not for me, and nothing more?

Would my heart’s rhythm stop?

Would my stomach fasten into an irreversible knot?

Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not sure

If adoring and being adored is something I could truly deplore

It’s just I don’t know what to do or say,

If love is a game I don’t know how to play.

How do you win a game when it’s inevitable to lose?

Maybe I’m just confused,

Maybe I’m just young and dumb,

Being scared of a feeling that’s supposed to be fun?

Maybe I’m just being over-analytical.

I wish I could say love is dumb

But that would be hypocritical.

Do I fear rejection?

Giving my heart away to get back no form of affection?

Or to leave a piece of my broken heart in someone’s collection?

As my heart beats these blues, I wonder if my future lover is scared of these things too.

I hope they’re patient, my favorite virtue.

I hope it’s worth the wait to find something so true

I wonder how long?

Now?

Later?

Soon?

Oh, future lover, I wish to spend some time with you.

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A Lover