Unresolved
What's worse than unrequited love
Is love repressed and unexpressed,
Returned but unresolved.
Once I loved a friend who, I knew,
Did not think of me as more than that.
Though painful, I was able to move on
By telling him, by facing harsh reality--
I lost a friend, but kept my sanity.
Now the harsh truth will not help
Because I know he cares as much as I.
Though, dammit! he has no right.
Since we cannot speak the truth
We call each other "friend"--
But keep our distance,
Tacitly admitting it would be too dangerous
To be too close.
If we were free to speak,
To know each other well,
Perhaps this would have run its course
Long ago, and be but bittersweet memory.
Yet we cannot let each other completely go,
Which would make it so much simpler.
If only, like everyone else
We would eventually lose touch,
If only we could forget.
Instead, every few months we meet,
Catch up, reminisce, talk shop--
And sometimes hint at what we cannot openly admit.
Twice now we have said goodbye,
Knowing that we really will not part,
But using that as our excuse
To say how much our "friendship" means.
Though we've shared nothing more intimate than an embrace
We've felt the longing in that bond,
The wondering of what might have been,
Of what we know can never be.
No matter what, sorrow is our lot:
It would be sorrow to lose my friend,
It is sorrow to know he is not mine,
But it would only be worse sorrow that could bring us together.
So I let him hold me long and tight--
We say goodbye, I'll miss you,
But no more than that.
He goes home to apologize for being out too late,
I go home alone.
I should know better
I'd hoped I'd be spared this
Print
Email
PDF