People lost along the way
When I was much younger, he was a kindred spirit when I didn't know they existed. We faded gradually out of each others lives as time went by but sometimes I think I see the back of his head on the bus and am torn between shutting my eyes and sleeping and keeping them open to see if its him. I sleep.
She was exciting and dangerous amongst the meek, and I loved that she was who she was and if someone didn't like it she honest to god didn't give a shit. She didn't do things the way they're usually done and I always felt exposed and off guard around her, but I liked that. We weren't going out but she broke up with me anyway and that was that. Anonymity becomes redundant when I say that I think of her whenever the monorail goes past.
She was a ray of joyful naughtiness, gleeful in her rule breaking and dirty humour. Being her friend was a delight. But something broke in her and although we still see each other, it brings me only sadness to see her now because my old friend is gone. I miss her sorely.
We were always somehow more than friends but there was also always a level contempt for each other. We were mostly close because of the accident of living near each other. I don't miss him and I don't want to see him, but he one of my best friends for many years.
These ones left me to live their lives.
These ones I see but they/I/we aren't the same any more and it is a hollow shallow empty sad version of something once natural, full-bodied and happy.
These ones belonged to him, and I grew to love them over time. Now I understand that loving people doesn't mean they're yours. The situation has banned me from knowing, seeing or loving them any more. I let them go reluctantly, but I had no choice.
There are a few more pending.
Love them as I did, these people are nothing compared to him. If each loss was a wound, I would have a row of neat, straight lines up my cheek for all of the above, and a hole the size of my fist in my chest for him. Losing them all is missing the bus; losing just him is being crushed under its tires. I didn't know it was possible to grieve for the living.
She was exciting and dangerous amongst the meek, and I loved that she was who she was and if someone didn't like it she honest to god didn't give a shit. She didn't do things the way they're usually done and I always felt exposed and off guard around her, but I liked that. We weren't going out but she broke up with me anyway and that was that. Anonymity becomes redundant when I say that I think of her whenever the monorail goes past.
She was a ray of joyful naughtiness, gleeful in her rule breaking and dirty humour. Being her friend was a delight. But something broke in her and although we still see each other, it brings me only sadness to see her now because my old friend is gone. I miss her sorely.
We were always somehow more than friends but there was also always a level contempt for each other. We were mostly close because of the accident of living near each other. I don't miss him and I don't want to see him, but he one of my best friends for many years.
These ones left me to live their lives.
These ones I see but they/I/we aren't the same any more and it is a hollow shallow empty sad version of something once natural, full-bodied and happy.
These ones belonged to him, and I grew to love them over time. Now I understand that loving people doesn't mean they're yours. The situation has banned me from knowing, seeing or loving them any more. I let them go reluctantly, but I had no choice.
There are a few more pending.
Love them as I did, these people are nothing compared to him. If each loss was a wound, I would have a row of neat, straight lines up my cheek for all of the above, and a hole the size of my fist in my chest for him. Losing them all is missing the bus; losing just him is being crushed under its tires. I didn't know it was possible to grieve for the living.