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Robert L. Martin

Judy

Judy

My apologies run through the veins of sincerity, those once empty portals that you filled with pure love, and I polluted them with indifference.  I was preoccupied with women that I couldn’t have, but pretended that I could.  My youth was wasted on a game of running after a dream that was only a dream.  You tried to show me the meaning of true love, that involuntary will to build up my self-esteem that I kept tearing down.  How could I have loved you if I couldn’t love myself?  
To you I was a knight riding a white stallion with my scepter pointed toward the western skies, and to me I was the horseless rider who couldn’t get off the ground.  You sanctified my path and lined it with soft velvet.  Everywhere I wandered your spirit was there holding me upright.  Your caring arms warded off any danger that could occur in my wayward wanderings.
Instead of choosing the true love that you offered me, I chased after what I thought love was.  To me it was a thrill ride that had no peaceful end to it.  The ride was the only love that I knew.  You tried to open my eyes to the stability that love offers, that contented state that exists even after the infatuation wears off.  
After all these years of pondering what could have been if I only knew what love was, my soul still has an empty spot that you could have filled.  Please forgive me, Dear Judy, for being so blind.

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