Mystery of boundaries

There are miles and miles of road ahead:
roads that twist and bend;
signs to follow — sometimes feel.
Roads that seem to stretch forever straight to nowhere:
dips; gradients; hills to climb; mists hiding trees —
softly ushering in the coming of light.
We have food, juice, water, pillows, and layers of clothing.
You have the books, the tapes, pen, journal, and
a wonderful belly of inspiration — so clear; so true.
All I have is this ache: slowly and subtly eating at my heart;
Kamikaze moths diving into the burning flame of your deep blue eyes.
Venus herself would be envious of this pull you have over me.
Dingo crazy: my mind howled at moon above;
playing sneaky intricate games; sniffing and digging around your fortress.
Each hug, holding of hands, touch, meeting of eyes
fuels the fire of this madness.
Each clever word and custard kindness: a lure to hook you in;
a psychotic predator preying on your trust.
The space unfold between us.
I cease to be me and you cease to be you.
I am the parched desert aching for love and the field of stars above.
Not this lighthing rejection:
a heart wrenching reprimand for crossing the line;
meandering into messed up boundaries.
Inside: everything collapsed; the predator has been found;
shot dead by the burning rays of the the mid-day sun.
The lightning never stopped:
burning the landscape of my power and pride; scorching the Spinifex
of protection woven over countless years.
I had hoped the thick black smoke would hide
what is burning deep inside but
the winds of your will kept blowing the smoke away.
"I am sorry my boundaries are messed up too."
Pieces of my heart are kangaroos jumping widly to escape the fire.
"I want you to love me, I want you to want me, I am hurting, can't you see?"
"We are good for each other, I have seen our future loves together.
"I have known and loved you in the past, in all my lives. I have spent countless
nights making love to you. I don't want to ever lose you again. I am at the court yard
yelling out your name. I am at the top of the red rock calling out to you. I see your face
in the endless horizon. I can still smell your sweet neck; the softness of your hair;
your long flowing red hair; your deep blue eyes — what have I done to deserve this?"
I hear the knife that stabs at my heart: never ending.
I hear the blade enter; break my sternum; yet I do not feel a thing.
There is no heart: just this empty hole with so much blood gushing out;
spilling into the cobbled stone street of pestilence.
"Mia Bella!" — then I saw my blood stained hands; the knife.
This will not end with the clicking of fingers.
I open my eyes. I see you.
My face is wet. My heart stung by a million ants.
You: are there; eyes piercing at my soul.
You have cornered this weak Wallaby. I cannot jump away.
There is nowhere to go. I speak with lips trembling. I can't say what I feel.
My heart in knots, I cannot speak.
"Do you have problems expressing how you feel?" you asked. I nod.
"Do you fear rejection?" you asked once more. I nod.
All this damn aching heart wanted to say was "I love you, I want us to be together."
You said no. Not never, but no.
The sky opened. An ocean above emptying itself: flooding the landscape below.
I am drowning. Stay with the feeling you said. This is a great opportunity for you.
Whatever comes up now: stay with it; use it.
But I do not want to use it. I am drowning. Every word you say sends me into a tail spin.
I have to please you. I modify myself to please you.
Why are you doing this? Why are you leading me like a dog on a damn leash?
When I am soft and weak: you look for my strength. When I am strong: you say I am harsh and look for my softness.
The rain did not stop.
"What's the point of staying with this feeling? I can't stay. At the end of the day,
we will not be together. After all this, I will still be left hurting. I am better directing
my will towards something else. Something useful. I have to will this feeling away".
Belly stubborn, you persisted.
"But this is not a samskara. This is my love for you. This is not a stepping stone.
This is my real love for you; and I am hurting.
I don't want you to analyse me; make me a better person.
I don't want your light; I want you. May be if I find someone else to give this love to,
the pain will go away. Time and distance might help it go away. I can be alone forever
nursing this wound. I will find someone else. I can forget. I must. I will forget".
And the rain poured down.
"I don't want this gift. I don't want this connection. I don't want this power.
I just want to be happy; be normal; be loved. I have seen us walk the aisle; seen our
children play.
On and on it came.
I was beside myself; on the edge; could not put: hands on wheel; feet to pedal.
The rain stopped. The desert is soaked. The landscape decimated.
Waiting.
There will always be roads to travel, destinations to reach, food to eat, water to drink
thoughts and feelings to write about, visions to see.
I hope you stay; I hope I stay
in this eternal dance of fire and water.