It’s my front porch

You came over tonight. It was the first time we met. In person.You sat down in the other rocking chair like you owned it. You didn't. It's mine. You said get over the whatever. I fought back a little. I made excuses. Yes, I realize how I was acting. I understand. I was being emotional. You tried to convince me that I was wrong. I couldn't hear it. Where are you going with this? I was warned that you did not like guys that were short. You are not so tall yourself. I never knew until today. Six months after the fire. You left. Abrupt. I was lost until I thought. I was thinking of the course of events. Do I. Should I. We cannot be anywhere near each other. That's been the case. Yet you continued to contact me. Why? You tried to reason with me tonight. It worked for a bit. I was almost there. Bow down to your desires. Kiss your feet. But. You cannot play puppeteer with me. I am me. I will forever be me. You have yet to convince me that my 10 fears can be eased by your presence. There is more to love than that. I want to. But I can't. And I won't.  

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