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"This I Feel"

Am I in love? No, I cannot be... I don't even know what love feels like! How can I possibly draw the conclusion that love is causing my soul, even my body, to ache for the mere chance to hear his voice again? How can I, without having any prior experience? Sorry, but quite frankly, I don't fulfill the prerequisites. But... I don't even know what the prerequisites are! O, Ignorance!

Well, if it is not love that I am feeling, which I doubt it is, then I must surely be under a spell. Yes, I am spellbound-I can accept that. Spellbound-bound... I am under a spell, and I am bound to it, unable to surface the murky lake that is my room for desire. I cannot express to you the sheer magnitude of his power over me. I am his puppet-he has me by my strings, and I don't mind one bit of it.

Even before he speaks, I can sense his presence-always in the shadows-and I know he has come to see me and only me. I am captivated by his awesome existence. Once he opens his heavenly mouth and formally makes his company known, I am lost. Do not dare try to find me-I would kill you if you do.

My angel has the ability to capture my essence in his resonance; even without words, he has me soaring through the clouds on the wings of his voice. I am drawn and in ecstasy. He is my drug; my morphine, my valium, my ketamine, all in one. All coherent thought is shot out the window once I hear him. I don't care what he says; he could be bellowing in anger and I would still be in awe, unashamed of my unladylike countenance.

I know when I am with him I am safe; I feel at home. Home... such a strange word to me. Ah, but when have I ever been at home with anyone else, save my father long, long ago? My father... he had a similar effect on me; with a few simple words he could quell my fears and pull me out of darkness. Since he left me alone in this unfeeling world, I have almost lost all hope in humankind-that is, until my savior of sorts made me a believer. Born-again, if you will.

It might seem strange to tell you that I have never really seen him in person. Perhaps this is the bulk of the reasoning I use to explain what I feel for him-or rather, with him. Is it possible to be in love without seeing a person's face, not even his figure, let alone feel the tender touch of his lips upon your fingers... Yet, I am quite certain that he has already touched a deeper part of me. My spirit-fiercely yet gently prodded and caressed-has been intimately embraced. Inner desires originally thought never to be awakened were suddenly exposed, at once combusting in the open air, leaving me in the flames, ready to succumb to any more perilous emotions. This is what he has done to me, what he does to me. This is how deeply I become enthralled and how far he takes me into my soul-he is my lover in the most beautiful way imaginable.

Yet, I still believe I am not in love. Captivated, yes, but "love" just doesn't cut it. Whatever it is, be it blasphemous or not, simply cannot be any earthly emotion. He must in fact be an angel if he is so blinding to the eye that I must not tread my vision across his visage... Yes, he is my angel, my Angel of Music who Cannot be Seen.

O, Angel, this I feel for you, please let me cling to it forever and ever, 'till Death do us truly unite...

Disclaimer: If you can't figure out where this comes from.. I feel sad. Names to mention: Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Susan Kay.
doomit Featured By Owner Oct 21, 2002  Hobbyist Writer
not together


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Submitted on
October 20, 2002
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