Halcyon

situational philosopher

i wait by the door,
pausing my life politely,
for it to swing open
for you to announce
your charming, elusive presence.
right person, wrong timing
is a beautiful lie
told by people
who don't,
and never will
admit to themselves
that it was always
wrong person,
right timing.

aren't we all
accustomed philosophers,
armed with borrowed wisdom,
scant experience,
and life's most elegant lies?
my head falls into my hands.
your voice repeats itself,
loud, relentless.
you wanted convenience.
i wanted clarity.
why can't we ever meet
halfway
where wanting and meaning
coexist?

you wanted access,
not responsibility.
you borrowed my presence
without planning to return it.
i gave you my evenings.
you gave me disclaimers.
i was available.
you were vague.
you had options.
i had patience.
so, i adjusted my expectations
so you wouldn't have to.

you called it freedom.
i called it uncertainty.
one of us was careful.
one of us was comfortable.
i learned your schedule
better than our future
tell me,
what has love reduced me into?

you walk in,
grinning, laughing.
i lift my head.
because if i named it,
i might have left
the very instant.

the problem?

i don't.