Last night I saw a friend of mine, one I once wrote a poem for, I shared with him when wonder was new, believing he could be a final destination,
but someone else was also there, taken by surprise at his attentive nature, sweet messages throughout the day, unafraid of filtering words I say, consistency building moment to moment, blissful being in his presence; my friend, he likes me too, a burden I hadn’t felt before, instead of acting as if all was well, I spoke to him with words sincere,
I don’t know how to navigate these roads, I met you first and felt a bond, so new, no promises acquired, now meeting him, it just seems there is more compatibility, can’t see two at once, that’s not my style, I free flow with brutal honesty.
It’s probably all for the best, I can’t provide you what you wish, a family, a child of your own, allowances not on the table, I can’t expect for you to change, nor I. Needy and expectant, I could soak in endless amounts of attention, from someone willing to provide and receive the love I wish to set free.
I thought this would silence him, most confessions do, but he replied soft and sweet, a feeling rare, accepted, new,
I hear the words you say to me, I bonded with you, truthfully, I don’t want you out of my world, or mind, if that means we’re friends, to me, that’s fine, let’s meet and talk, laugh and cry, I’ll hold your hand and kiss your cheek, respect your choice and honesty, just don’t let go of me.
and so we met, spoke as I wept of life and stories past, I begged him pardon for my tears, he had no fear of them, catharsis for the weary soul, indicative of hearts not closed, when seen with empathy and care, now harder to leave a kindred spirit,
we hugged, I kissed you on the cheek, then sent you on your way, you messaged me what you thought of our wonderful, lovely time.
I responded that I wept some more, not wanting to hurt his beautiful soul, a soul who cares enough to try, his words a calm, gentle reply;
I’m not hurting, I like when you are near,
now my heart floods with joyful tears.
Emily Cloward © 2018