tears as you drove me home

I couldn't find the words to explain the tears, instead I wrote this poem.

He reaches for me, reaches
with one hand that I push away.
Looking towards his gaze,
I fight to understand why I worry so
and why I care so much for him.
Is he really so special?!
I have the choice to walk away,
so why don't I?
And why doesn't he?
Why is it
that we are having such trouble
getting this right?
It seems easy to be in love.
I know that it takes time,
and I hope I am willing to wait
for the day when he will reach for me
with both hands.
Then I will reach back,
without fear.