When we look back
Someday we'll look back on these years and laugh
At how we were afraid to speak to each other.
But I am not laughing now—
I am too scared.
Someday we'll regret the wasted time,
But will admit we were too busy,
Not yet ready in so many ways.
But I do not regret it now—
I've too much to do.
(So often I've wondered what I would have done
If I'd known then what I know now.
Would I have believed that pesky kid
A decade or two later would still be my friend?
Would I have paid more attention to our first conversations?
Would I have been any less annoyed?
If I'd known where I'd live and where I'd work
Would I have been more or less determined as a student?
Would I have been more or less pragmatic?
If I had known
Would it have mattered?
Would I have changed anything?
Would I have believed any of it?)
Someday we'll look back, amazed
How our ignorance allowed our fickle imaginations
To see the other as more fascinating or more boring
Than what we finally discovered.
But I am not yet amazed—
I'm too bored by my dreams.
Someday we'll tell how we first met,
How we knew what was to come.
Each time we tell our story, we'll marvel at our surety.
But I will not tell it now—
For I don't really believe it.
Someday, instead, will I look back on this and laugh?
Wondering what mix of wishful thinking and self-delusion
Led me to imagine a future that will never be?
But I'm not laughing now—
I'm still waiting.
Premonition
I'd hoped I'd be spared this
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