We never took the time
To watch the clouds.
Eighteen years into the future,
I can’t believe we had time
For anything much, but
Nine months is a long time
At nineteen, I suppose.

It was certainly long enough
To accommodate all the tropes
Of later, longer relationships:
Perhaps my eyes could have
Looked skywards had they not
Spent so long gazing at other
Potential homes for my heart.

Still, it seems I never had time
To learn how not to repeat
Those same mistakes endlessly;
Growing up seemed to do nothing
To grow me out of childish
Flightiness, to soothe my itchy feet.

Perhaps, after all, we were not
Where one another was meant
To be, despite the inevitability
We happily swallowed, but
I refuse to regret any of it:

For every opportunity missed,
There was at least one taken,
A small serving of joy to
Temper the sadness that I thought
Was destined to be unending.

09/06/2019

Posted on 10/07/2019
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