Spiritual Tug of War
He traps me in his web. However, it is solely his spiritual essence that ties me to him because I have yet to share his bed.
Six years of friendship full of comfort, tears, and laughter.
Until that one faithful day when he decided to start the next chapter.
He told me he loved me, it wasn't a surprise. However, for some reason, it came as a surprise to me.
I wasn't ready for such a responsibility. He handed me the key to his heart, I became the ground to his world, but we were only friends.
I wasn't even his girl.
Throughout the years we shared stories of each other's lives, families, and mates.
However, it wouldn't have been in a million years, that I would have thought that we would have come face to face.
Heart to heart and toe to toe. For so many years he labeled me his homegirl and I, my bro.
Six years of comfort, six years of arguments, and six years of growth.
Friendship and love, could I have them both?
Friendship or love; which one is valued the most?
I honestly do love him and we've grown so close over time.
I know his secrets and he knows mine.
I've explored each wall of his heart and each corner of his mind.
Yet, I find it difficult to define his love for me.
This fact and this fact alone, still remains a mystery.
However, I am convinced that it must be love in its purest form because it lacks physical influence.
It's like the kind of love that a mother has for her unborn child.
She hasn't held him(or her) in her arms before. She hasn't even had the opportunity to hear the infant laugh, cry, or to even see her baby smile.
However, she is certain that the love she has for her child is there.
Fortunately, he is not the only one who loves; this love is something that we both share.
However, he is more content with his emotions.
Meanwhile my love on the other hand, is accompanied by fear.
I fear losing my friendship, for this is a foundation that took six years to build.
However, sometimes I wonder how his love for me would truly feel. I wonder if he would be honest and true to me, or if he would play the field.
Sometimes I feel as though I am stuck in traffic. For some reason, I'm always waiting on the yellow light which forces me to yield.
Maybe he's offering all that he has inside, while I remain unsatisfied. For some odd reason I want it all, and every time he gives I beg for more.
Maybe I shouldn't push, maybe he shouldn't pull, and maybe we both could come out victorious in this spiritual tug of war.