Insecurity

Tossing and turning within his nightly slumber his mind races with the anticipation he has built just for a day of, love felt for him. Yet he is strangle un-tamed too this new sensation; his heart telling him one thing, while his brain fails at each pass of a new emotion. What is he supposed to do? Is this normal? As he again jolts out of a restless and much needed sleep he begins too cry, and not tears of love; but tears of pain. What is this sensation meant to be felt as? Is he supposed too know what its plan for him is? Why from all the years of help for others not prepared him for this torture he puts himself through..
Is his happiness truly dependent on this so called sensation of love? Does he really need this new emotion? In this truly desperate time why can't his white horse of salvation come and make this mud clear....As his tear stains his face and sheets he looks out of his window and with a hardened resolve he whips the tears away...he knows what must be done; he needs his love too be meant and not just lusted. Battling through all the words they speak the next day, he walks him crying himself into a lull of dull feelings. It was done, he broke the heart and person that said they loved him, yet he felt strangely happy. In the end as he finally turns the lights back on and cleans himself up he realizes what love he craves, is not a simple fix. What he is waiting for is the simplistic lover that allows him to feel lonely...but needed; sad,/happy. And not just a filler to pace the time.
Now proudly walking out of his room he bares the mental scares of the war called love. But as he holds his head up high and heads into the world he feels more at rest and calm then he ever has.