not yet ready.

the funny thing is, i know how to love you but i have no idea how to love me.  i know your favorite color, and the face you make when you're trying to hide your excitement.  i know when you're happy, and especially when you're not.  i know what your favorite food is and how to hold you when you want to give up.  but i have no idea how to love me.  on the nights i spend alone, i lay awake staring at the ceiling wondering why i feel like there's someone lying with me that i know nothing about.  a stranger who doesn't belong.  if i close my eyes i'm certain i'll be confronted with the face of someone i'm not yet ready to know, but if i leave my eyes open i am awkwardly aware of the being that desires to be acknowledged.  so just keep moving.  if i don't stand still long enough for my innocence to catch me, i'll never have to protect me from myself.