myriad of secret thoughts

I’m in love with a gentleman with whom I feel unladylike in comparison.
It’s not that he’s articulate, dashing, dresses well and has a dark, brooding smile. It’s not that we spend hours talking about politics and social culture over wine or an exquisite blend of coffee.
It’s that he’s loyal, unlike me. And he sticks to the rules, unlike me.
And by the way, he doesn’t care how he dresses, has a shy sort of smile and we spend hours talking of nothing and everything over the phone. And ice cream, once.
And he’s in love, unlike me, to someone else.
Did I say I love him? I take that back. I haven’t a single clue what love is.
Much too abstract.
There are people who love you and feel it as a justification for owning you and tying you down.
There are people who love you and say they would go to the ends of the earth to be with you but cannot even spend time with you.
There are people who love you, yet love someone else a month later...
No, love is a vague and fuzzy word.

But I broke the rules for him.
And I’m inspired by him.
And I laugh with him, liberatingly, at times when I’m determined not to laugh.
And I’m not bothered about how different we are
And he lingers on my mind, stubbornly,
like a secret yearning to be revealed.