Neal
I'm sad. Not sad like I'm going to cry. Not depressed. Just sad. There's like this hole inside me. It's like I'm hungry but nothing seems to satisfy. So I just starve. So I am starving with sadness. I want you to come back for me. I want you to apology, maybe. There's so much I want to say but I've said too much already. I'm sad for us. Because we could've been great. Great friends, a great pair, a great team. I envy your special skill of detachment, the way you can care for people and not care for them at the drop of a hat. You forget the past because you believe people are gone but they're never truly gone. Just because you move or people leave this world, doesn't mean they're ever truly gone. That's your flaw. That's your problem. Or maybe that's my misconception: believing that people can be recovered and rescued and changed. And it was my bad to think that you haven't changed but you have. How? I'll never know and for that I'm sad. I'm sad because I messed up. I'm sad because you're blind. I'm sad because the last conversation I had with you will be our very last and I'm sad because that's life. And there's nothing any of us can do to change that.
YOU ARE READING
How I Love You
Poetry". . . . Then must you speak / Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well; / Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, / Perplex'd in the extreme. . . ." -Act 5, Scene 2 of Othello by W. Shakespeare A collection of poems to the boys and men I hav...
