Moment of reflection

Rocks don't move unless they are manipulated into action. They become acts of life, moved to the rhythm of the wind. I have become enchanted with the art of being, watching as the brush strokes of life create vision on my canvas. I once heard an ode to love is to stand and listen to the leaves of trees blown by the wind, they tell the story of romance. I've run from the idea of love even though I'm addicted to the emotion but the idea frightens me. You see I've been abused by the the act of self preservation, lost in the building of a relationship that  I've never conquered the truth of me existing in one. Scared of the momentum it would lead me too, that my abandonment issues would surface and he would get a glimpse of my brokenness. I've read a thousand books in order to find a fairytale to exist, my reality would never sponsor. You see my king, is wrapped in a knight's  armor, he's shielded his heart from emotion, he's wrapped in brokenness that his mind won't let him escape. He's gentle but because of his wounds his hardened facade causes me to be overly cautious to the point i would rather choose silence than be a nuisance in his life. He isn't defined by love but pain, even though i fight for him,  i know that he has no other choice but to run. Breathe for he is my breath..