If I don't see her, I don't have to think about her.
If I don't work with her, I don't have to have those moments of perfect understanding.
If I don't hear her, I don't have to think about the day I'll never hear her voice again.
If I don't comfort her, I'll never have to feel that odd, yearning twist in my stomach as I long to reach out and hold her and protect her, and assure her everything will be alright, even when I know it won't.
If I never touch her, I'll never have to deal with that longing to never let her go.
If I never talk to her, I'll never have to deal with the way she changes my view, disturbs my world, shakes and shifts my heart and soul, until I'm no longer sure who I am or what I believe.
If I never see her smile, I'll never have to realise the woman I love is twenty years younger than I am, and so beautiful.
If I never see that look of gentleness in her eyes, that I hope she reserves just for me, I'll never have to think how I hoped, believed, wanted until I heard the name 'Hank'
If I never let her close to me, I'll never lose my precious, hard-won, emotional control, and how can I live my life, do my job, without that?
If I never let her near me, I'll never have to love her.
If I never love her, I'll never hurt her.
Except it's all too late. She sits bleeding on the kerb, and I know it's all already gone further than I can control. And never cannot last forever, and I long for -and dread- the day she refuses to accept never.
If I don't work with her, I don't have to have those moments of perfect understanding.
If I don't hear her, I don't have to think about the day I'll never hear her voice again.
If I don't comfort her, I'll never have to feel that odd, yearning twist in my stomach as I long to reach out and hold her and protect her, and assure her everything will be alright, even when I know it won't.
If I never touch her, I'll never have to deal with that longing to never let her go.
If I never talk to her, I'll never have to deal with the way she changes my view, disturbs my world, shakes and shifts my heart and soul, until I'm no longer sure who I am or what I believe.
If I never see her smile, I'll never have to realise the woman I love is twenty years younger than I am, and so beautiful.
If I never see that look of gentleness in her eyes, that I hope she reserves just for me, I'll never have to think how I hoped, believed, wanted until I heard the name 'Hank'
If I never let her close to me, I'll never lose my precious, hard-won, emotional control, and how can I live my life, do my job, without that?
If I never let her near me, I'll never have to love her.
If I never love her, I'll never hurt her.
Except it's all too late. She sits bleeding on the kerb, and I know it's all already gone further than I can control. And never cannot last forever, and I long for -and dread- the day she refuses to accept never.
