The Gift Of You

The Gift Of You prose poem

Uploaded by Toni Scales

I haven’t been able to sleep.

What you said, perhaps just offhandedly,
perhaps not really caring at all,
has me wide awake lost in those silly impossible dreams
and longings that overtake my being so often.

You cannot know how desperately I want
to belong to someone I want.
You don’t know how long I’ve been searching.

It’s been decades of that sweet sudden delicious
hope that always begins with five little words,
“Could it possibly be him…”

You said you wanted me to be with no other now.
To be with only you.

You can’t possibly know how badly I hope
you meant what you said.
That you might actually care.

You don’t know what I would give up
to be yours. You don’t know what kind of woman
I would become if it meant you were the one
I strove to be better for…

And I could never ask you to be mine.

I can’t. It’s enough you’ve claimed you’ll be
coming back when you can. It’s more than enough
for me. I’ve never experienced anything more incredible
than what went on between you and me that night…

The strange wonderful giving and receiving,
how you answered things in me I never knew someone
could answer, I never knew I was even asking.

And I’d want you to come back to me because
you need me just a little, because you feel for me
something like the soft aching warmth which has
consumed me all night for you and made me restless
and impatient to know if my dreams will finally,
after almost 43 years, come true.

If you knew exactly what I’m feeling you’d probably run.
I of course will never let you know about what’s burning
and roiling in my desperate heart tonight.

But I’m waiting. I want my gift.
I’ve been waiting for so long.

I don’t care if the package isn’t ​wrapped prettily
or there are parts missing
or the directions have been lost.

I want my present.
I want my gift.

The gift of you.

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