"We Would Have Loved Each Other" (had we let us...) a poem by Westley Nash

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After we have presented our heart to somebody very special and had it cruelly thrown back at us with a few boot prints stomped into it for good measure, we struggle to open up to anyone ever again. The fear of suffering that same hurt can be so great that we push away everyone, even those good and decent people who would bring only good things to our world, simply because we aren’t prepared to take a risk on anyone. This is an unfortunate enough situation as it is, but when you get two people who are deeply attracted to one another but are stuck in the same mindset, it becomes a full blown tragedy...
This poem is based on an experience I had years ago with someone I was very fond of, but was unable to evolve our relationship beyond the superficial. The pair of us both had unresolved issues from past heartbreaks and our dysfunctional behaviour would repeatedly trigger each other’s insecurities, all of which stood like an impassable barrier between us. In the end neither of us could find a way beyond the fear and so kind of just drifted apart. I know deep down that had we been given the chance we could have been something truly special. But instead it remains as nothing more than a life long “what if?” for me.
Best Wishes
Westley xx
#thoughtsofsteel
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Transcript
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We would have loved each other... Had we let us. We could have built our wildest dreams right up to the stars above if we really wanted to. But we were just too afraid to welcome one another in. Unwilling to step outside of those rigid lines we’d drawn against ourselves long before we had even met. Because (let’s be honest) we were far too certain to dare culture such meaningful feelings!
Everyone knew we could have made a real go of things and I think that’s what scared us the most. That it’s easier to stand outside the walls of a heart which never truly opens, safe to imagine what beauty lies within, while never venturing into it’s uncertain reality. To tip toe gently among shallow expressions of care and affection, knowing full well that their limited understanding of their own truth will ensure they never once threaten to pull us into the depths of their potent embrace.
Perhaps it is better we keep our distance? To leave the pyres of hope stocked, but unlit. With no flames of roaring passion to give our shadows the vitality to dance their mercurial waltz. To stay the risk of suffering the same tragic fate of thousands, who sit alone by the riverside, struggling to wash the soot from their blistered hands, weeping uncontrollably for a home sweet home that’s been left burning to the ground!
Westley Nash (2022)
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