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To quote the Bard, my dear Lefty,
Parting is such sweet sorrow,
I shall wait for thee till morrow (or something like that, lol)

This is a complete series of poems I wrote for guy with whom I fell deeply and madly in love with. The poems take our 'failed relationship' from the beginning to the end - the good, the bad, the everything:
PS - His name didn't ever start with 'S'
* * *
My thoughts are
curiously preoccupied
with you today.
And to think that,
just two days ago,
I didn't even know
you existed.
* * *
The day seemed not
to be going
at all well for me
today.
My dog was sick
during the night.
My car was dangerously low
on fuel.
My coffee turned cold
before I could drink it.
My boss was not at all pleased
with the way I did my work.
And to top it all off, I didn't get paid
in time for the bank.
Then I thought of you
and it made me smile.
* * *
You are becoming
a habit with me.
But I don't mind.
* * *
I dare not say
you stepped out of my dreams.
I could never have dreamed
of someone as nice as you.
* * *
I had a lot on my mind
this afternoon.
I didn't have time
to think of you
hardly at all.
I hope you don't mind.
* * *
I seem to be doing
a lot of I-ing and you-ing
lately.
I wonder
if it could mean
anything?
* * *
I'm sorry,
I was listening
to what
you weren't saying.
* * *
Somehow, I knew
the first time I saw you,
something wonderful would happen.
It did.
* * *
All my life,
I wanted desperately
for someone like you
to walk into my life.
And now, here you are.
Damn it!
Why did I have to
fall in love with you?
* * *
I've done
a lot of things
I'd never done before.
I've said things
I'd never say.
I've seen things
I'd never see.
I've been to places
I'd never go to.
Who knows?
I may even
get to like hockey.
* * *
NOVEMBER 26, 1983
Grey Cup weekend.
Memories fill my mind
as friends flow through
my door today.
One year ago,
(seems like forever)
but the memories
make it like yesterday.
* * *
I sit beside you
in the softness
of a dimly-lit room.
I enjoy your company,
the friendship you offer
in return for mine.
I steal glances at you,
more, perhaps, than I should.
Do you know, I wonder?
Do you mind my appreciation?
So much like a toy,
wrapped and ready
to play with and enjoy.
Yet, you are not a toy,
nor I a child.
You are a young man
with the feelings and respect
due to you.
I admire them,
and respect them,
as I admire and respect you.
I can't open that present,
and it may not even be for me,
but for now, I can look
and dream about it.
Can't I?
* * *
I cherish each moment
we're together.
Each step we take,
each word we speak,
each silence we share.
The energy I feel
when you dance.
The happiness I feel
when you smile.
The strength I feel
when you walk.
The closeness I feel
when you laugh.
The gentleness I feel
when you sleep.
I love to watch you sleep,
and you are you
for only me.
* * *
TELLING MY SECRET TO S_____
indecision . . . hesitation . . .
do I tell you? . . .
or not? . . .
I risk losing a good friend
by telling you---
but---
I fear you finding out
some other way even more.
please be understanding . . .
please be trusting . . .
I will tell you now . . .
I will . . .
'---um---
would you like
another cup of coffee?'
* * *
To be understood
is to understand.
I understand
our friendship,
though I fail
to understand
why it is.
I understand
my feelings for you,
my caring for you,
my trusting in you.
But to understand you
. . . my friend . . .
You call me
'Big Brother'.
I want to cry out
with the pride I feel.
I have no brothers now,
except for you.
My brother . . .
My friend . . .
I am so proud that
you want to be
part of my life.
I thank you.
* * *
Last night,
you shared yourself with me.
Your time
became our time.
Together, we shared
a long-awaited moment
and we were one
with the other.
You gave me your life,
freely, unselfishly.
I accepted it
into myself graciously,
perhaps greedily,
and I became
a part of you.
Nothing
can ever take that
from me.
* * *
I lie beside you
in the darkness of a red exit light
above us.
Silence fills the room with emptiness,
save for the hum of the refrigerator
and the beat of your heart.
I can hear it
as I rest my head against your chest.
I scratch gently at your belly.
I sense your pleasure.
I feel mine.
I lie beside you
and smell the manly scents
of your young body.
I move closer to you,
closer than I dare.
I'll take the risk,
just to be near you.
You are my life.
Let me live.
* * *
I didn't sleep much
last night,
with you there
beside me,
so very, very close,
yet,
so very, very far away.
It was beautiful,
like old times.
The memories flowed back
in multitudes,
and we were, again,
as we were before.
Wow!
What a Christmas!
* * *
I saw you in my mind today.
You were angry
at someone else.
You were crying,
fists clenched,
and screaming,
neck exploding,
face red with fire.
I went to help you.
You called me a name,
and then you hit me.
But you promised . . .
* * *
You hurt me once,
but I can't be angry
with you.
For one thing,
I know
you would never
hurt me intentionally,
and, for another,
if you DID
want to hurt me,
I wouldn't be able
to write this down.
* * *
You've been gone
almost six months now.
I miss you badly.
The good times we had,
the fun, the laughs,
the tears, the brotherhood,
the just being together.
I miss lying beside you,
feeling you close to me,
the warmth of your youth
flowing into my maturity.
I want so much
to be able to hold you,
to touch you,
to let you know
that my love for you
has not diminished
in your absence.
I wish again to lie with you,
holding you close to me,
later to swim in your scent
that lingers within the sheets
of the bed we shared.
I remember your scent
to this day.
It rests on my nostrils
as the smell of clover
rests on the evening breeze.
My desire to touch you,
to feel your magnificence
once more in my hand,
my fingers seemingly dwarfed
by your hardness,
dominates my every fantasy.
I long to make you happy,
to share the pleasure,
the intensity,
of your release,
to taste your essence,
to feel your strength
once again inside me.
Knowing I have pleased you
and loved you
will be my pleasure,
my reward.
Hurry home, S_____.
Please?
* * *
I tried not to
think of you tonight,
but the more
I didn't think of you,
the more I reminded myself
of what it was that I
wasn't thinking about,
and, of course,
I thought of you.
It isn't easy,
not thinking.
* * *
If you hadn't
entered my life
as you did,
and left me
as you did,
I would not be
in the state I'm in.
But then,
if you'd never
entered it
in the first place,
I would never
have been
in the state I was.
That makes your
leaving me
easier to handle.
* * *
I have never
suffered the pain
of the death
of a friend.
It must be terrible,
and if it feels
anything like
the emptiness
left by my father,
I pray
it's a long,
long time
before I feel it again.
You just went away,
and I cried.
I can't imagine
what would have happened
had you
died on me.
* * *
Sitting together again,
just the two of us.
You and me,
together
again.
Like old times.
Touch glasses
and toast ourselves.
It feels good
to share ourselves
again,
like this,
to know a moment
as it happens,
and hold it with us
when we part.
It feels good
to be with you
again,
as once upon a time.
Times like this
are rare, now.
More rare
than I care them
to be.
Thank you.
It's been nice.
Let's do it again,
sometime.

The power of your passion, and the hurt you felt/feel is tangible.

I stopped feeling the hurt a long time ago when I came to my senses and admitted to myself that the guy was an asshole.
I kept them memories to remind me of better times, though, and to remind me not to be so stupid for so long if there were to be a next time.
School of Hard Knocks?A very valuable lesson. We all visit the "School of Hard Knocks" a time or two, at least, in our lives. Lord knows I have.
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