I wish that you would like me. Love me. Want to be with me. Maybe you do. But why would you really. I'm not exactly perfect, I'm not even close. They all say that no one can ever be. But you’re as close as it gets in this evil world. You sing, so beautifully it makes me want to sing too, which is a VERY rare occurrence. You play so many instruments, it’s hard to keep track. You always fight for the underdog, even at your faces expense. You are the best baseball player there is. I could go on listing everything I love about you, but there’s not enough time in the world. You make me smile. When I'm with you, I can’t help but laugh. You take the weight off my shoulders, and cast it away with your deep brown eyes. When you’re happy I'm happy. When you’re sad, I'm sad. It’s the closest thing to unity I've ever felt before. But you are always with her. You practically never leave her side. I watch as she hugs you, as you kiss. I feel no pain I’ve ever felt before. Each moment I spend watching you with her. Every breath I waste reassuring you that you look good for your date. Each day as I see her treat you like dirt, walking over you as if you were a doormat. And though I've tried to impress these things upon you so many times, you are still with her. Gosh you must love her. And it hurts. It hurts like you couldn’t imagine. But I still help you pick out her anniversary present. This year it was a beautiful ring, so old it was starting to break apart. But it was amazing anyway. It was like a piece of history. Just not a piece of ours. And when you come to my house in the last hours of night, I hold you as you cry, telling me about the way she threw the ring back at your face. I listen as you talk, but all I'm thinking of is how I'm the only one who’s ever seen you cry. Only me. Not her. I smile at the thought as I'm lying in bed after you’ve gone, back to her to apologize. I remember the days when we would talk all night long and listen as the birds would start to sing early in the morning. We would look out my window and see blurs of red wings and orange beaks. You used to sing to me. Did you forget? I would listen in awe as you would sing, sounding just as sweet as the birds. I haven’t heard you sing in a while, a truly long time. Where has the old you gone off to? This new one just rushes around, trying to please her. The old you would have never let me get this far away. Where has he gone?
where has he gone
July 6, 2012