Being There

It’s queer how things change, for worse, or for good,
How happiness curls itself contentedly in our minds,
How the warmth of coffee reminds us of a wintry evening,
How the lightning reminds me of the first hug.
I’ve been there always through thick and thin,
And though you don’t realize, I still miss you.
A lie was said, a life was ruined, happiness smothered,
Yet a smile still persists on our faces, we pretend,
Pretend to whom, and to what avail, I don’t understand.

I’ve been thinking about you lately, how I moved on,
How you did so too, and how the goodbye didn’t hurt us much,
As do the flashbacks of the many jiffies that we created.
When I go back home, I smile at the rock in the park where I’d inscribed our names,
We’d smiled that day, and promised we’d see it together again; we didn’t.
The sand castles have long been washed out by the waves,
But, the shells still echo our voice, you should come and listen to them once.

I’ve decided to never talk to you about this again, lest it hurts you.
I’ve decided not to let you realize either that I love you beyond what words can describe.
But, somewhere down there, I know you know,
Somewhere down the line, we know we’ll meet again, it’s bound to happen.
That day, I hope we can smile and tell each other, yes we were.

Enough said, I think I should stop writing about you any further.
I hope you read this someday and read through the lines, but I hardly think you’d.
I wish I could see you again.

I pray.

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