Let me tell you what's going to happen.
Let me tell you what you and I are going to do.

After hints of Everything,
we will once again revert to Nothing -
back to square one.
We'll drive back,
warm comments flowing,
          comments filled with so much more,
          impregnated with possibility,
and arrive.

Then, the pause.

Haven't we been here before?
This seems familiar.
Perhaps it's because we've enacted this scene
          a dozen times,
                    if not more.
Nothing ever happens,
and all my small efforts
seem inconsequential.
I never know how far to go -
Am I projecting these feelings onto her,
in my mind,
or does she truly share them?
With her,
there's always an issue of taking that step:
it's a gamble,
and I have come to loathe gambles.
Because of recent events in my life,
I despise taking risks with things I care about.
If there's even a chance I could ruin something,
          I refuse.
Making a statement that I long to,
Committing an action that I yearn for,
If I do so, and am wrong in my assumptions . . .
Then it's just another thing I've screwed up:
Something that could have been grand,
But because of my impatience, my impertinence,
my lack of control, I've wasted.

I don't want to risk her,
but I long for more of her.