Wednesday, August 23, 2017

A Crush I Had in High School

I liked her.
She didn’t like me.
Oh, she liked me a little,
at least in some limited way,
at least on some brief occasions.
Well, maybe she didn’t like me at all.
She probably didn’t.
But, she must have liked me a little.
I mean, she did keep me around.
I waited and waited like a dog
for her to throw meat to the ground.
And sometimes there was meat:
She looked at me.
She talked to me.
She walked alongside me.
This was all so long ago.
I don’t think we ever had lunch together,
and we certainly never had dinner together.
I think it was a friendship.
There was also the meat she didn’t offer.
The things I stole from her.
Long looks at the skin beneath her skirt.
My hand on her thigh.
Heartbreaks never disappear.
They only move into deeper parts of ourselves.
Old passions bubble up at the strangest times,
like tonight,
when for some reason,
I’m thinking of her again.
I remember it all seemed very serious at the time,
but now, well, now...
it still seems pretty serious.
When it was over, when it was clear
there would never be a beginning,
I cried.
I cried on the bus,
I cried in my bedroom,
I thought the tears would never stop,
but eventually, they did,
and eventually, I grew up.
I’m a man now,
and so tonight, there will be no tears,
and not another word concerning her.

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