Love.

Do you think the random men that I give my heart to in the middle of the night feel my love? As they lie in their own beds, sleeping next to their wives and husbands, their children their pets or no one at all. Do they feel a phantom kiss on their lips? Or how tightly I squeeze my pillow imaging their figure in the dead of night? Does the excitment I feel when I imagine our lives collding together somehow jumpstart their heart as it does mine? Do they ever long for me how I dream of them? Will the men that I silently love ever know that they are loved, do they walk with more confidence not knowing why? Will they ever know they have an admirer who yearns for their sweet embrace? Will I ever get the guts to say half of the things that I feel or will I stay cowered in fear?