The story is always the same
Again young love blossoms before my eyes
Her smile illuminates the room
He too smiles, he waits, he tries.
Their hands touch
The friend who loves, he hides in plain sight
A playful laugh
Sadly giving up, never willing to fight.
The connection is real
He will be the loving friend, always adored
Her eyes are set one someone else
He will be the loving friend and nothing more.
He looks at her with eyes of longing. He loves her, the fires of passion burn brightly behind his eyes as he stares across the coffee table at her, but that love is unrequited, it always has been and it always will be.
If the time ever comes where she looks at him the same it will be too late.
He will have made peace with not being the one she chose time and again. He will have watched as she was with everyone who had something he didn’t, he will have moved on.
A story of someone who’s always there, always close, but never close enough to make you see how much they love you.
Such it the tale of the friend who loved you…
A rare sight that was to see
The look of happiness with a hint of more
It’s exactly the same when they look at me
They turn and smile walking out the door
Thoughts a clear as day
Memories stir of times before
Friends is what we stay
Long chosen in the times of old
A sensible choice to be that way
Reminiscing stories of being bold
I pray for her future, her happiness, for her to fall in love
Warming smiles ease the chilling cold
I hope she takes the chance given from above
I hope she doesn’t stay trapped like a caged dove
Often we are left alone with our thoughts and feelings, as they ricochet of the walls inside our heads. We play out scenarios again and a again, always coming back to two: the one we want, and the one we believe.
I know what it is like to feel that no one understands, but what I now know is frightening, terrifying and yet the best thing anyone can hope for. Those closest to us know what we are thinking, even if we don’t know ourselves.
True, they can’t be certain they know, but for the most part we ourselves know that they know. This is why the most common answer is often “I don’t know.” but, we do know, we know they know, and they know that we know that they know. It’s funny really.
It’s hard to accept that people know us so well.
I was told I will have two major relationships in my life. I am somewhat of a sceptic, but if this is true I don’t think they are relationships in the common sense.
I believe that they have already happened. I believe those special people are already in my life. They are the two people I hold closest to my heart, and they are the ones who keep me in balance.
Each time I speak to one of them I can feel any and all ill feelings disappear because they don’t seek to change me. They only seek to understand. As a result they know my choices and their true motives.
I can’t hide from these two people, nor do I want too. They can see beyond the external and have become more than friends. The bonds we have can’t be explained by words, it is a bond known only to those who understand.
They belong to me.
“The seas of change are string, I can feel a choice coming my way and I will have to live with the consequences of that choice. What am I to do…”
I had written the above passage almost a week ago now, I never posted it, and yet it still came to fruition.
There has been a clash between the people of my life. Two people who once held a mutual respect are not at each others throats, I can see both sides of the coin, I can understand what each is trying to say, and still, while I don’t agree with ones course of action and consider it wrong I will stand by her because, she is my friend.
Her biggest fear is one that I will not stand for her and not protect her, she is wrong. I would stand, even if it meant I was also seen in the same light, because, that’s what friends do.
Many will say you don’t have to pick a side, this is foolish, you always have to pick a side and what matters most is who’s side you pick; because it doesn’t matter if they are right or if they are wrong, you pick a side based on those you’re loyal too. You stand by them no matter what, you pick up the pieces not to make yourself seem like a better person, you do it because they are your friend.
That’s just how it is in my eyes.
She is like a page in a book. A page who’s caught between two children, one turning left and the other turning right, it will only be a matter of time before she tears in two.
One is trying to move forwards, the other is trying to move back. I can feel the confusion and frustration surrounding her, it would simply be easier to let go and spare her this battle of attention.
I have said my piece “I don’t need to broadcast that you are my friend.” and still it is I who feels like the villain. Perhaps I am asking too much. Perhaps I have become so used to the inconsistency of my life that as with the man I see as my brother, I now see her as mine…
Mine to protect, mine to scold, mine to love. Mine.