Confusion and Pleasure

This evening I sank to the bottom of the shower and just sat there.
Hearing and feeling the warm drizzle of the shower head on my back.
Weighed down with pleasure and confusion.
One side of me recognizes my quickness to react in emotion,
And I halt myself. I say wait. Give him a chance.
The other side of me wonders if I feel this confusion because
Pleasure came first.

I want to trust him. I want to believe the best in him.
And then I grab hold of nagging doubts and I feed them with paranoia.
And how can he respond, poor guy?
I've done this before.
I look for any reason NOT to be his.
But mostly, I want to be with him.
Life is not the same without him.
And within that sentiment I listen to him talk.

In an instant, I hear myself being married off.
I hear myself say "I do" through lifeless lips that are brought to life solely when his lips press mine.
My sisters eagerly plan my wedding.
And I scream inwardly that I'm not ready - I'm 22.
No one hears me.
I, myself, turn a deaf ear on my cries.
In one minute I could wait forever,
And in the next, I can't wait one more minute.

It's been just me for 22 years.
Sure guys have come and gone.
But I've had my alone time, my late nights, my spontaneous decisions.
I've answered to no man.
And I find myself wanting to share my bed,
But not my life.
It's a lot to ask an independent girl to blindly give herself to a man
She doesn't know.
Strangely, it is easier for me to give him my body,
Than it is for me to give him my heart.

I WILL wait, don't worry.
But for a moment, I'm struck between the magnetic fields of
One life direction and another.
For a moment, I'm sitting at the bottom of a shower,
And I hear the artificial rain.
And I go to a different place.

I cry to my Father - please, help me up.
I cry, take the worry that clouds my vision.
Show me clearly if it's me or if it's him.
No matter what,
I need to know - to spare him any pain.
Because I care about him.
And ultimately, all that matters, Father,
Is that it's all about You.