So Far, Untitled, like My Feelings for You

I am not a romantic
in any sense of that word
(except in hopes stowed away in silence, maybe);
I am far too pragmatic for my own good
even, especially(?)
when it comes to you.

suffice to say,
this is not what I imagined,
but then,
nothing ever really is.
but you,
and how your
outrageous laugh
and silly, messy hair
make my heart beat that much faster
is not what I planned -
as if I had ever wanted to care.

my one condition is this:
you can kiss me,
you can hug me,
but for God's sake,
please-
don't love me.
at this point,
that is something I just couldn't take
as I stand, wobbly,
in this precarious, liminal place

I mean,
I suppose there are
1 million reasons
that could explain this -
my multitude of emotional deficiencies,
but I can't come up with anything
other than
I am fucked up-
though I'm sure a shrink could
give you a better explanation.

but for now, as always
I am simply that -
fucked up -
and therefore incapable
of it, this
us;
instead, I continue
to not plan for these sorts of things-
only plans that don't involve you
or anybody else.