Turned Away

She turns away and leaves me standing there, Mouth agape at what she said, my hands tremble to hold her, And my heart is ripped in half as the strings she has tied to me become thinner and thinner as she walks further out of my life. Through no fault of my own, she says, and yet it is, As I had not been there for her, she had found someone who could, and he had taken my place in both her arms and her Life. One can always say that to remain friends, one must be there for the other. I settle for that, better to see the sun through the window, then to receive no light at all.
As the days progress, a shadow falls over her glorious countenance, and the sun becomes dimmer. He has not and cannot be the one to support her, for money and friends hold a grip on his heart tighter than she could ever spin her net, and still I wait in the shadows, reminding her of my presence and trying to continually be there for her, to be the one who only failed once, ready with a shoulder for her to cry on, and open arms to hold her in brotherly comfort.
I hold her hand in support and anticipation, and raise it with triumph as the awards are given. She cries on my cheeks for the happiness, and still I am but her brother, she dances for joy, and still I am but her brother, she tires in exhaustion and sleeps in my arms, and back at home he waits. With no thought on his mind of her, he unknowingly waits, and she goes running back to his arms in happiness and joy. I fall behind in the shadows, and my heart is torn as she finds security and comfort in his arms. As soon as she is out of sight, he turns from her, and betrays her thoughts, trust, and love.
I go home to my bed, thinking only of her and those feelings that still reside deep within my heart, and I am alone. I dream, and my dreams are tormented with visions of her and what we once had, what I still secretly hope to have again.
She waits, she waits for him, and he never comes. I search endlessly, hoping to bring him to her, if only to see her in happiness, if only to see her smile in joy, and take away the sorrow that darkened and shadowed her face. He never comes, and she cries into the arms of another, and again, I am left outside of the light.
Throughout the season I pass through her vision, even her arms on occasion, knowing that I am only a proxy for what she cannot have from him. The new year comes and goes, and still I am a tangible memory that aches for more than a passing glance, more than a touch in the dark, more than a shadow of the past.
He fades out of her life, and she blocks away all thoughts and feelings of Love, of a Man that can give her what she has so long been denied by him, Trust, Comfort, and Love. I wait.
For so long we are together, holding hands, knowing that someone who cares is near, no commitment, no sorrow and anguish, just perfect friendship. Hurt and in pain, she recovers from wounds just made, and though I cannot be there in person, we talk. For hours on end we talk, and all is well. But while we talk, another is pushed into her life, almost forced on her, and she almost accepts.
She visibly walks back into my life, and my hand is there in friendship, taken and held. Her friend always, counselor and comforter full time, and for a time she almost goes with him.
I work, I work in the dark, behind the curtains, backstage, and she works with me, unable to sing and dance where she belongs, on stage, she dances a different waltz with me in the dark. Together we find what we had so long ago lost or hidden away, a team, a companionship that went deeper than mere friends, and in the dark we meet again.
Duty calls, and for my country I leave. I am gone, gone for a time too long, and our communication wanes. Through letters not sent and words misread, we read deeper than we should, and knew not what the other had said.
Faithful she is, and faithful she remains, to this day still in my arms, though others try to take her away from me. Pushed and pulled, she waits for my return from a war in a distant land, a war for both body and soul. She waits for me, and I will come home to her, never again to be turned away.
Christopher Southworth
Dedicated to and Inspired By: Michele Dawn Lee. We did have something my Love, and it has come and gone, but with all things has had the chance to grow again.