A secret love is beautiful, sweet and sacred when it’s just a light infatuation; but when that person reaches over and touches you in the heart, making it alive in a way it has never known, that secret love becomes frightening, because you can never make them love you, you would never want to make them love you…but all the same, no matter which way you view it, they don’t love you…and your heart doesn’t know how to beat the same.
I hide my love in field and town Till een the breeze would knock me down, The bees seemed singing ballads oer, The fly’s bass turned a lion’s roar; And even silence found a tongue, To haunt me all the summer long; The riddle nature could not prove Was nothing else but secret love.
We’ve all at some point in our life encountered that feeling of secretly liking someone, secretly having your eyes on them, secretly wishing they knew, but deep inside you were afraid of what the outcome would be. So you kept it unnoticed. Kept it hidden, locked inside, just hoping that maybe one day that moment would finally come when they would notice you!
It’s a funny thing secret love. You would change yourself and your whole world just to be with them; just to hear them talk to you makes you feel as though you’re experiencing an epiphany. Just to see them look at you makes you feel as though every speck of what you are is valuable; and to watch them walk in the room, the ordinary, dark boring room and watch it change when they walk in as if they carry a piece of the sun itself in their being, as if now that they’ve arrived the whole world will be okay again. As if having them near would be the nearest thing to heaven you’ve ever known. But they don’t love you and they walk on by each time with a smile, a nod and vanish away from your hungry sight.
It does good to no woman to be flattered [by a man] who does not intend to marry her; and it is madness in all women to let a secret love kindle within them, which, if unreturned and unknown, must devour the life that feeds it; and, if discovered and responded to, must lead, ignis-fatuus-like, into miry wilds whence there is no extrication.
How flippantly we all treat a secret love, like a joke, something cute, as if it’s just a sweet little thing to pat. But when we are the secret lover, we hold our breath with each word they speak, we long so desperately for their touch, even just brief, we could almost bleed we long for it so. And when they find a lover, we feel like a shadow, longing to be seen as real, until we finally learn we have nothing more to do than to fade away from their light.
A secret love is beautiful, sweet and sacred when it’s just a light infatuation; but when that person reaches over and touches you in the heart, making it alive in a way it has never known, that secret love becomes frightening, because you can never make them love you, you would never want to make them love you…but all the same, no matter which way you view it, they don’t love you…and your heart doesn’t know how to beat the same..
Love never grows when its secretly kept locked in our hearts. Love will only find its fulfillment when it finds it’s way out and dwells in the heart of that person destined to keep it.
One sweet, sad secret holds my heart in thrall; A mighty love within my breast has grown, Unseen, unspoken, and of no one known; And of my sweet, who gave it, least of all.