The Art of Loving and Losing

Hidden Chest

Among your things is a small wooden chest that I hid before you left. 

Whether you would find it within the cluttered suitcase of your past life, I didn't know.

But if you did, would you have the courage to open it if I left you the key with my initial on it?

Or would you leave the chest shut in my honor until we meet again?

You were looking onwards, dreaming about paths to a Utopian land in a foreign country.

I was at a crossroads, seeing my future stretch out in one direction without you in it,

and my fantasies chasing you in the other through the arduous trail of impossible wishes.

Sometimes I fear of what you would do when you found that chest.

Would you know you always had the key, or keep it locked because you thought you didn't?

Would you know what to do with what's inside or pretend you never saw it if you opened it?

Part of me hopes you don't find it so I can keep evading the truth I've always run from.

But another part, the wistful dreamer who left the choice up to fate, hopes you do.

In daydreams I dare you to open that suitcase you intentionally left shut for years.

When you see that chest within your old things, I hope you call me to face the entangled past.

In some distant future I see your face smiling with remembrance when we meet again.

We'll reminisce about simpler times when we were young and naïve.

And fall right into our easy friendship as if time had never passed and an ocean kept us apart.

During our trip down memory lane, I'll bring up the chest and you will admit you never saw it.

You'll dig it out from that suitcase, and I'll take the key from you.

Within its velvety interior I will reveal my heart, still beating healthy and strong.

In shock you'll try to give it back to me, but I'll refuse because it's been gone for too long.