Sustenance. A lament.

I.
Had a conversation recently that took me by surprise,
maybe opened an old wound.

“When I first met you, I found you hot.”
But now the moment has passed, the wires
have crossed,
and you cannot be the kind of person who would reconsider.

(I remember my grin:
“DAMMIT!”)

I would never ask you to change.

Had a conversation, years ago it seems…

“On paper, you’re perfect for me,
but I cannot imagine being intimate with you.”
And now you’re not single–
indeed, you’re with a man you love.

I am deeply happy for you.

II.
Regret is strongest for the things I haven’t done,
connections missed–
crossed wires.

I find myself sad,
because “in another life/
I would be your man/
We’d keep all our promises, and do
the best we can.”
Funny thing: you acknowledged as much.

I bet we would have been strong, and wonderful.
I bet we would have been good for each other.
I bet the sex would have been fan-fucking-tastic.
We could have gone the distance–or at least,
I bet the try would have been epic.

Today, I am sad.

III.
I have not lost anything real.
You are my very-good-dear-friend, my companion on the way,
and I will love you forever,
even if–
may God forbid it!–
we end up in different places.

I do not want you to change,
and I wouldn’t ask it of you.
I just want to feel heard,
maybe even joined in my reverie,
(because you are my friend,
because you see the same lost opportunity,
because you sense that an alternate universe’s energy
provides some sustenance for the closeness we share,
now),

just for a little while.

Today, I am sad.
Today, I am glad to know you.

IV.
Thank you for this conversation.
Thank you, most of all, for you.

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