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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1232277-reckless
Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1232277
Things best left unsaid
You call to see how I’m doing, and ask to meet me in a public place. I long to see you, to feel your soft stubble on my cheeks, but I decline. You coax and persuade, I yield, as expected. But I don’t want to. We have been down this path before, and there is no honor to be found in it.

I think of you during the day, while projects and goals fall on the wayside. And as I raise my glass to welcome yet another drunken evening, my mind wonders where you are, and if you could be thinking of me, too.

My life goes on, with a veneer of normalcy, that only I see cracked and ruined. I want to blame you, but this one is all on me. My vows, broken. My loyalty, non-existent.

As I park my car, I spot you, awkwardly leaning on your truck, like a deliveryman desperate to be somewhere else. My knees shake, I can’t breathe. I try to regain my composure, but I feel cheap and unworthy.

You wave hello, I wave back. We chit chat for a while, but we know what we are here for. We say good-bye. You seem relieved, I feel empty and humiliated.. One last hug, meant to make things better. I let go quickly, and you ask me if I‘m OK. Yes-I lie. You say that I feel warm, you think I might have a fever.

But I know it’s just the me that you knew, dying.
© Copyright 2007 anemone (pivilu at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1232277-reckless