Gravity

I love a woman...

No, not a woman; a celestial body

Whose mere presence in my life
Is as illuminating and awe-inspiring

As a brilliant star

Casting its light far and wide in the pitch-black cosmos

But wait, no... this is not a fitting description

Of how remarkably glorious she truly is

But I’m no astronomer or physicist 

To find a more apt metaphor to describe her

Than a supermassive black hole.

Space and time

And the very laws of gravity & attraction

Do not apply to her;

For every thing she does attracts me

And makes me want her more

And everything she doesn’t do

Is automatically unimportant to me;

Blocked out by my brain

For the crime of not being in her orbit.

Time stops when she smiles at me

Or gives me that bold, mischievous look.

And the world stands completely still for me

When I hear her laugh at something I said

Or when she clasps my hand in hers

In that special way that makes me feel

Wanted; safe; unburdened; whole.

And yet

And yet...

And yet!

She is also as elusive and unreachable

As a supermassive black hole

Somehow simultaneously as theoretical

As she is real to me...

And no matter how close to me

She appears to physically be

It still feels like light years separate us

And that no matter how fast I drift

In the endless nothingness towards her

I’m no closer to touching her

Than I did when I first started my journey...

And that is my curse

Being so close to her, but also so far.

Some might call that a mercy

For if I ever reach her, certain death awaits me

But color me unimpressed

With the machinations of fate

For though death is unavoidable

With her in my path

Life on any other path

Is worth less than nothing.

And yet

And yet...

And yet!

Perhaps it is more than a little arrogant

To pretend like I have any control 
Over my navigation

For no matter what I “decide” to do

Or where I “decide” to go

Her gravitational  field is inescapable;

Her pull on me is irresistible

And my fate has long since been sealed.
So let’s leave the theoretical and the academic
For the scientists to ponder over
For I am the mere rocket man
Propelled on a fixed trajectory
And enjoying every second of my journey
Towards the very void. 

I love a woman… no, not a woman. 

A myth.

An idea.

Someone who does not exist, and never will.