Touched - An ode to an old friend.

I lived for the touch of a hand that was not my own and when I found that, I pursued it to the ends of the earth. I opened my heart for the very first time, so wide that the doors could not be seen. But you were swayed by another. I hoped and I prayed that each day, you'd return, but alas, I let you go and you chose another.

I found out later the fault was mine. Had I actually continued to pursue, you would have returned. Part of me is glad I didn't. I know now it wasn't right. I know now you would have suffered...and I love you too much for you to suffer, at least by my hand or by my heart.

Initially I trailed. I trailed after you like a lost puppy, gladly accepting any crumbs of affection or even derision and somehow that was enough. But then you moved away and although I didn't know it at the time, a part of me was glad. At least I couldn't trail after you like that any more. Maybe I could regain some self-respect. Maybe I could learn to love someone else.

I did, kind of. I found someone, younger, not you, not really like you. Long brown hair, narrow, almost angular face, excellent musician. I liked her. I think I even loved her, but there was so little in common. She left, I think or maybe I left her. It's hard to remember.

And then there was my first wife. Ah, but you know all about her. - You even know about my second ex-wife. And you know about all my lovers and all my friends. You know my life almost as well as you know your own. Yet here I am, still thinking about you, still wanting you, though differently now. What has it been, 13 or 14 years? The time just slips away like clouds over the horizon. I wanted to ask you if you ever cried over me, wished things had been different, really wanted me again, really wanted me when all the lights were on instead of a half-promise made during an inebriated evening. --- I would have, you know. I would have dropped everything for you, my wife, my job, my practice, my family, everything. I would have given you my life but you weren't interested. I can't blame you. It's not a terribly interesting life. Still...*shrug*

I almost wish I could really say good-bye. But even if we didn't speak anymore, I'd still miss you, still think about you and wonder what you were doing and how you were doing. All I'd do is lose a friend, a true friend, a real friend, closer than any other has ever been. So I continue wanting and I continue having and I continue losing and no matter how many come and go, no matter what happens, no matter if the world were handed to me on a silver platter with a picket fence around it, still I would think of you.