Valentine, Stay

Can I confess
My loneliness to you?
I’m thinking yes
To everything you want to do
I’ve waited here
Holding onto dreams of us
And now it’s time
I’m reaching out to offer you my trust

Today
You’re my Valentine
Today
I want you to be mine
Today
I’m in love with you
You’ve struck me right
There through the heart
Now what you’re going to do
Is stay

I couldn’t sleep
But when I dreamed
I held you hand in hand
I want to be
Your everything
Beside you I would stand
Through hardest days
And longest ways
That life so often has
I’m here to say
We’ll be okay
Until the storm has passed

Today
You’re my Valentine
Today
I want you to be mine
Today
I’m in love with you
You’ve struck me right
There through the heart
Now what you’re going to do
Is stay

And no more tears
On Valentine’s
It’s no longer one day
Now that you’re here
Now that you’re mine
It’s called Valentine, Stay
So wipe your eyes
Or better yet
I’ll do it for you
I’ll cherish every
Breath of time
Like drops of morning dew

Today
You’re my Valentine
Today
I want you to be mine
Today
I’m in love with you
You’ve struck me right
There through the heart
Now what you’re going to do
Is stay

Commentary:

This song is somewhat following the idea of my previous song, a hypothetical love song to me by someone hypothetically/implausibly fascinated by me.  I’m uncomfortable tagging it or writing it as a Valentine’s Day song, as that’s not something I’m into.  But maybe I’m trying something new by exploring it in my writing.

Would I want for my wife to feel this way about me?  I’m not even sure I could say yes. Self-esteem factors in, there.  How could anyone ever feel like that about someone like me?  I don’t think I’d want to believe it.  I think it would scare me.  It feels almost sinful, using the term loosely, to want to be cherished like they sing about in the songs.  To truly be seen.  Must be nice.  But not very practical or rational.

But there’s the problem of, quite simply, “What do I deserve?”  I’ve wrestled with that for decades now.  Perhaps such writings are cathartic, in a way.  It’s easier to write about it, and then turn that feeling off, deal with reality.  I’ve been afraid of that, of being receptive to love, and so it probably led me to think, well, I don’t deserve it.  I doubt anyone’s here for the commentary, so…enough of that. Thanks for reading.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s