A friend thinks my love for you is selfish,
that if I truly loved you I would do
anything and everything to be there with you.
I do not deny that there are limits
to what I feel capable of, and yet
caught in the snare of this accusation
I must wonder if you feel like my friend — 
I find this painfully unbearable,
a realization of my own short-comings
and yet I have always felt that a relationship
is a coming together, not by sacrifice
but by mutual understanding and compromise.
I cannot be the knight in fine armor,
but I think you might find, my love, inside
I love you as you are, with great ardor.