What If I Told You I Love You

I dreamt about you last night...

I dream about you often;

But still my mind puts no face with you.

There is a void, a nothingness perhaps, when you speak in my dreams.

You never have a lot to say, though.

I thought that maybe, just maybe,

That loving you, wanting you, needing you,

Could coax words from your lips...

Your empty, unseen lips.

And then the scene changes to something more pleasant,

More pleasant by far:

You're smiling.

I don't know how I know...

I still see no face,

It's almost as if you don't exist,

Except in my mind.

But you reach out to me,

And I come to your arms.

Feeling safe at last,

Feeling myself wanted and needed.

Then I stop, and think, and realize:

That that's what I wanted you to feel.

If you felt it, then maybe you could need me.

Did I finally reach your heart with my idealistic wants?

But, almost sadly, I remember I'm a realist.

Though I look up at you and place a kiss on your lips-

The lips that are still empty to me...

I wanted so much for you to understand,

What it was that I was thinking.

You can't read my mind, though.

Oh... And for that I'm quite glad.

Perhaps the intensity with which I want you...

Would scare you away from me.

I do not doubt that, honestly.

And you're wondering, always:

"How can you love me?

You know nothing about me."

But I do know.

Not everything, no.

But I know. And I care enough

To say, perhaps, that I love you.

To say 'love' though, is almost silly.

You don't really believe in love, do you?

From what you've said to me.

I think you don't.

But I'm earnest when I say

That I don't speak my heart or mind, anymore.

Would you write me off as a silly little girl?

If I told you I love you...