confessional

Many things have changed for me but you have not.

I first understood this when I shared a scratchy-legged bed with a girl you were once close with. It was in the heady, sweaty haze of post-celebration and I told her I loved you and she stroked my hand. She is now my closest companion.

For me, an engaged smile from you is ecstasy and asking about your romantic conquests makes me feel we are one. I have grown up and have so long hoped you would grow with me and to me. These feelings wax and wane with such proclivity that I know as I have forgotten you, your visage will be uncovered by changing wind.

I know this is love because to go unrequited so long takes the strength of harder stuff than understanding and compassion.

I am not telling you this because I expect you to understand. I merely hope it will help me understand why my heart wants what it cannot have and why I see you when I close my eyes and sing of melancholy.