It doesnt really matter

It doesn't really matter what I say, you have already judged me as guilty, saying 'betrayer'.
I may not always do the right thing, but I try to be kind to you before being kind to myself.
Intelligence has nothing to do with actions and (over)reactions when real love arrives.
Passion annuls patience, caring drives us to hard places that caution would scream "no".

Love is painful, both for the lover and the loved, it is full speed over the cliff of reason.
There is no road map for a relationship, you are on the way before the destination is agreed.
Speed limits do not apply, no wonder we become reckless and take bends and bridges too fast.
No wonder we have accidents, driving blind in a mist of love only one hand on the wheel.

It doesn't really matter what I say, you have already judged me as unrealistic, a dreamer.
Reality comes later; when we start it is a dream, we have finally met 'the love of our life'.
And what a love, the eye only sees the beauty, it does not notice the talons or the beak.
And like an eagle, our love has the power to rip us to pieces, before the eyes of our loved.

Love is painful, both for the lover and the loved, we drive ourselves into dark places.
A simple "no" or "I need more time" becomes total rejection and our fears attack us.
There is no mercy in our dreams and nightmares, we cannot run from our fears, they follow.
We try to rationalise, we try to plan the way to heaven, instead we awake hell in us both.

It doesn't really matter what I say, you have already judged me as unreliable and untrue.
I am there for you, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot always put your needs before mine.
There are times when my needs become most urgent, hijacking my best intentions.
Surely this shows that I am reliable; you can rely on me to do my best for the both of us.

Love is painful, both for the lover and the loved, we promise more than we can deliver.
If we are loving we try to give all we can, and more, to give all we wish we could give.
But sometimes we have very little to give; fear, pain and sickness rob us of our hearts gifts.
At this time we must love ourselves enough to receive without embarrassment or jealousy.

It doesn't really matter what you say, I have already judged me as inadequate, not enough.
I offer you strength, love and caring, but I am human and fallible, there is still a boy inside.
My desire is to be all that you would wish to find in a prince when you care to kiss a frog.
I acknowledge the reality, I am all that I can be, neither prince nor frog; but a loving man.

Love is painful, both for the lover and the loved, we find reality, not fairy tales, in our love.
Our expectations are always for sunny days and love filled nights, but fog and flu are real.
But I say to you, fallible and imperfect man that I am, I know the truth about you and me.
Neither of us is guilty, unrealistic, unreliable or inadequate. We are living love as best we can.