She told me no.
More times than I could count in a seven-and-a-half-minute call.
My pleas,
That it would be different this time,
All futile lies,
The last, ugly kicks of a dying donkey.
I watched my breath fog the mirror in front of me
Knowing it wouldn't change.
She was done.
“You want me only as a friend,
I want you as something more.
I can't do, ‘friends’ with you,
It would eat at me until there's nothing left but bare bones.”
I stared at the tiled floor, too cowardly to admit it.
She was right.
I miss the quiet hum of her voice,
Hours melting into the dark as we talked.
We would argue, yes,
But our roots always aligned, always stayed firm.
She was everything I ever wanted,
A clean horizon I couldn't see through my own smoke.
But she saw it.
She understood the shape of my mess,
Put up with my sudden exists, my vices,
And built bridges over my avoidant distance,
While her own anxious heart quieted its pulse.
But a bridge can only hang in the air for so long.
Now, she was choosing solid ground,
She was finally choosing herself.
“We've been down this road before,
At this point, it's embarrassing.
You said you didn't want this—what has changed?”
The line, a heavy suffocating blow to my throat,
I couldn't give her a reason.
I had already judged her in the dark of my mind,
Convinced she'd only see my truths as cheap excuses.
Because the truth is a jagged thing.
I can't confess that her past is the real obstacle between us.
That I'm too terrified of the ghosts she carries,
That I'm afraid she's still anchored to her former lover.
That I do not want to be measured against him.
I loathe the thought of becoming the hand that triggers her pain.
Just Life!
