Dear Bee,
I honestly and completely
love you deeply.

I'm not trying to be dramatic,
over-analyze, scrutinize or be difficult.
I'm not perfect, as I've illustrated.
My words and actions clearly display
that I'm inept in many ways, and to reiterate;
I'd rather have you as a friend
than to not have you at all.

That being conveyed,

I'd rather have you love me back
than muck about; a neanderthal, wondering
about the next time we'll have a talk,
or if you'll ever be comfortable
enough for only the two of us
to do anything but lunch
in a public place.

You once shared with me displays of love,

yet to exemplify our previous
affections... clearly too much;
as if it's tedious and strenuous, you fuss.

"Oh, he's ingenuous and thus
cares not for me, this man must be
inconsiderate, deliberately...

Ugh."

I can rhyme,
I can charm,
that's nothing new.

I can and will politicize,
clarify, and emphasize.

I can spin woos all day,
or, you know, I could just say,
"Bee, tell me what you really think."

After that I'd hold my breath indefinitely,
anticipating; hoping for more than agony.
Though I know it would only be hope,
and it's hopeless to wish for anything.

I don't know any other way to safely bottle up
the feelings in my heart, or the heartbreak in my gut.

I'm distraught without you in my life,
at the thought of the never-will-be-again,
and the wish-I-was-smarter-back-then's.
I'm spinning in a wishing well
dropping a penny for every thought of you,
breaking the bank looking for a try-again.

Hopeless romantic now seems to be a real thing
as this boy is left with nothing but
wishes, broken parts and ruined dreams.

-

Half way through this eulogy I wrote you a letter,
not so subtly; sincerity deployed like infantry,
that left me exposed to your mercy, or softened butchery
or bullet riddles if my heart braves their trajectory;
should you unload on me.

Impatiently I waited for inevitability; your reckoning,
rejection beyond repair and suffering, I didn't care,
I needed an answer more than anything.

An eventual reply came in the form of texted empathy.
You let me down gently but emphasized intentions sharply.
Like a blade of reassurance deflecting residual feelings,
edging out confusion or misunderstandings but really
just cutting the heart out of me.

Now I'm a bloody mess.

I digress, respectfully,
my hope lives on; lovingly.

Sincerely.

01/13/2016

Posted on 01/14/2016
Copyright © 2024 Jody Pratt