Poem: Loyal Friends of the Broken-Hearted
Author's note: So, I don't actually expect anyone will read this, since I'm only posting it here. BUT I did name my journal after this poem, so I thought it'd be appropriate. I wrote this years ago about a high school friend of mine. It was the first (and remains one of the few) pieces of my writing that I've shared with anyone.
Loyal Friends of the Broken-Hearted
If it had been me, I would have been caught.
I don't have what it takes -
or maybe I have something it can't take.
No. Wait. I meant to start from the beginning.
You were beautiful;
men would fall all over themselves for you
and you would calmly step right over them.
That's what happened to Ian, Andrew, Matt,
Steve & Adam, Jordan, Paul... the list goes on,
but I stop.
And names fade into details:
the old one, the young one, skirt-worthy guy,
book store boy, one-night stands, eight-month stands.
I need a map.
This isn't the beginning either, but
I can't make out the start from where I sit.
We joked about it all the time, about
what you would do when it all went to hell -
it never did. We never planned for that.
And so we wandered aimlessly in the
midst of everything... working out.
The downside of beauty is being loved.
Steve, he loved you, and I know you knew that.
And I know that you loved him too, you just
didn't love him back.
All the boys loved you and you had your pick.
I guess you always made bad decisions.
Adam was Steve's best friend;
your best friend's best friend
was the one you chose to satisfy your
twisted need for a twisted relationship.
Fuck buddies. That was the technical term,
but the preferred was "friends with benefits."
I think we thought that we had made that up.
If it had been me, I would have been caught.
But you - you are flawed.
Whatever suspicions weren't dodged by the fates,
you killed before they could learn how to run.
You are flawed;
it started the endless war with your mother,
and later resulted in cheating
and breaking hearts and being told off by
the loyal friends of the broken-hearted.
"Incapable of expressing emotion"
I think that's how she put it, didn't she?
It's the weapon you use to break their hearts,
so many hearts, some might call you a slut -
but I wouldn't.
With Steve it was self-defense.
And for once, it saved you.
How else could you have remained so still in
the face of justified accusation?
You looked him in the eyes and didn't flinch.
And you are not that good of an actor.
You fooled everybody, including me.
Or maybe the fates were bored with their lives
and found our broken ones entertaining.
Maybe it was them sitting next to me,
watching and waiting for it all to come
crashing
down.
It hasn't yet.
Somehow you and Adam carried it all,
Steve's founded jealousy, suspicions and -
Kate. I forgot Kate. But Kate loved him too.
Your him. (Though Kate's hope in becoming Kate
& Adam was only supported by
antidepressants...
that's beside the point.
The point is, we always forgot our friend Kate.)
Steve could see Adam's house from his window,
but he could never see you.
Not even when you spent Saturday there
cashing in the benefits of your friendship,
then calmly walked over to pick up Steve,
and then
calmly walked back to pick up him.
The watching fates laughed so hard that they cried.
I didn't laugh, I was a loyal friend.
I guess that makes one of us.
I'm not mad.
Eventually you decided that I
would be loyal enough to do nothing.
Eventually you told me and I
sat back with the fates, and watched, and waited,
and I might have laughed (but only a little bit).
Eight months is long when you have a secret.
A long time to lie, long time to rely
on technicalities to absolve you.
You are broken-hearted, but not from love
or rejection, or loneliness, or hate,
or from any traditional clichés.
Your heart is broken because it doesn't work.
We wasted a lot of time talking about
what would happen when Steve started watching.
His betrayal would rage in confusion
and his hate for you would bully his love
until love pushed back and ran him into Adam.
Adam would apologize and mean it,
but Steve would only answer him in blood.
The fates would cheer and I would shake my head;
not even god knows what would have happened next.
But Steve never did decide to sit with me
and summer came to wash it all away.
Everything faded, but nothing was gone.
The dam was so close to bursting that I
stopped breathing in anticipation.
It's been five years now...
my lungs are starting to hurt.
Loyal Friends of the Broken-Hearted
If it had been me, I would have been caught.
I don't have what it takes -
or maybe I have something it can't take.
No. Wait. I meant to start from the beginning.
You were beautiful;
men would fall all over themselves for you
and you would calmly step right over them.
That's what happened to Ian, Andrew, Matt,
Steve & Adam, Jordan, Paul... the list goes on,
but I stop.
And names fade into details:
the old one, the young one, skirt-worthy guy,
book store boy, one-night stands, eight-month stands.
I need a map.
This isn't the beginning either, but
I can't make out the start from where I sit.
We joked about it all the time, about
what you would do when it all went to hell -
it never did. We never planned for that.
And so we wandered aimlessly in the
midst of everything... working out.
The downside of beauty is being loved.
Steve, he loved you, and I know you knew that.
And I know that you loved him too, you just
didn't love him back.
All the boys loved you and you had your pick.
I guess you always made bad decisions.
Adam was Steve's best friend;
your best friend's best friend
was the one you chose to satisfy your
twisted need for a twisted relationship.
Fuck buddies. That was the technical term,
but the preferred was "friends with benefits."
I think we thought that we had made that up.
If it had been me, I would have been caught.
But you - you are flawed.
Whatever suspicions weren't dodged by the fates,
you killed before they could learn how to run.
You are flawed;
it started the endless war with your mother,
and later resulted in cheating
and breaking hearts and being told off by
the loyal friends of the broken-hearted.
"Incapable of expressing emotion"
I think that's how she put it, didn't she?
It's the weapon you use to break their hearts,
so many hearts, some might call you a slut -
but I wouldn't.
With Steve it was self-defense.
And for once, it saved you.
How else could you have remained so still in
the face of justified accusation?
You looked him in the eyes and didn't flinch.
And you are not that good of an actor.
You fooled everybody, including me.
Or maybe the fates were bored with their lives
and found our broken ones entertaining.
Maybe it was them sitting next to me,
watching and waiting for it all to come
crashing
down.
It hasn't yet.
Somehow you and Adam carried it all,
Steve's founded jealousy, suspicions and -
Kate. I forgot Kate. But Kate loved him too.
Your him. (Though Kate's hope in becoming Kate
& Adam was only supported by
antidepressants...
that's beside the point.
The point is, we always forgot our friend Kate.)
Steve could see Adam's house from his window,
but he could never see you.
Not even when you spent Saturday there
cashing in the benefits of your friendship,
then calmly walked over to pick up Steve,
and then
calmly walked back to pick up him.
The watching fates laughed so hard that they cried.
I didn't laugh, I was a loyal friend.
I guess that makes one of us.
I'm not mad.
Eventually you decided that I
would be loyal enough to do nothing.
Eventually you told me and I
sat back with the fates, and watched, and waited,
and I might have laughed (but only a little bit).
Eight months is long when you have a secret.
A long time to lie, long time to rely
on technicalities to absolve you.
You are broken-hearted, but not from love
or rejection, or loneliness, or hate,
or from any traditional clichés.
Your heart is broken because it doesn't work.
We wasted a lot of time talking about
what would happen when Steve started watching.
His betrayal would rage in confusion
and his hate for you would bully his love
until love pushed back and ran him into Adam.
Adam would apologize and mean it,
but Steve would only answer him in blood.
The fates would cheer and I would shake my head;
not even god knows what would have happened next.
But Steve never did decide to sit with me
and summer came to wash it all away.
Everything faded, but nothing was gone.
The dam was so close to bursting that I
stopped breathing in anticipation.
It's been five years now...
my lungs are starting to hurt.