A Long Time Gone
I return, nothing achieved
and nothing lost,
or so I believe.
No trauma, no heartache.
A man. A friend who is now more.
He is the man I respected for a long time
above all others and the man
I never lusted after but
sometimes felt for insofar as
I felt that his partner was not worthy of
him. Him. And that he should be
with someone like me.
But I didn't dwell on it.
I had other offers, oh yes,
I had other offers.
There was The Artist, who is beautiful, and
happens to be the nicest boy in the world.
Talented and funny and loyal
and poetic and moral.
There was El Presidente, who
adored me. He is loud and sensitive and quiet and hilarious
and creative
and accepting of me and all my flaws.
There was The Photographer, who
lavished attention on me and
looked after me; taught and advised me.
Who sought to improve me.
There was The Singer, who
kept his distance for a long time, and emerged
to let me know that he still thought about me, and that those
thoughts were always there, and powerful.
And there was The Drummer, who
is funny and arrogant and whom I do not trust,
no, not in the slightest, but we sang together the songs from Bugsy Malone
and danced home to the street we lived on.
There was The Tycoon, who has made no secret of the fact
that he feels a certain way about me
but has made a secret of the fact that he has been in a relationship for
eight years.
There was The Greek, who has been a good friend
to me, and the most generous person I know,
but shocked me in animalistic attempts to
seduce me.
There was The Playwright, who
told me, of el Presidente,
"He loves you" and added
"And I do too. I always have."
And then there is my man. Whom I adore.
Who continually insulted and mocked me during the two years
we have been friends, and then
one night, decided that he was attracted to me.
And from then, there has been just one day on which we
did not speak. Just one.
He is my equal in all things. He fascinates me.
He makes me happier than I have been
in a very long time. He is leaving the country in a few months. He wants me to
follow him.
He has not told me he loves me and I
have not told him that I love him, but both of us are safe in the
knowledge that
we love each other.
I'd be surprisingly good for you.
and nothing lost,
or so I believe.
No trauma, no heartache.
A man. A friend who is now more.
He is the man I respected for a long time
above all others and the man
I never lusted after but
sometimes felt for insofar as
I felt that his partner was not worthy of
him. Him. And that he should be
with someone like me.
But I didn't dwell on it.
I had other offers, oh yes,
I had other offers.
There was The Artist, who is beautiful, and
happens to be the nicest boy in the world.
Talented and funny and loyal
and poetic and moral.
There was El Presidente, who
adored me. He is loud and sensitive and quiet and hilarious
and creative
and accepting of me and all my flaws.
There was The Photographer, who
lavished attention on me and
looked after me; taught and advised me.
Who sought to improve me.
There was The Singer, who
kept his distance for a long time, and emerged
to let me know that he still thought about me, and that those
thoughts were always there, and powerful.
And there was The Drummer, who
is funny and arrogant and whom I do not trust,
no, not in the slightest, but we sang together the songs from Bugsy Malone
and danced home to the street we lived on.
There was The Tycoon, who has made no secret of the fact
that he feels a certain way about me
but has made a secret of the fact that he has been in a relationship for
eight years.
There was The Greek, who has been a good friend
to me, and the most generous person I know,
but shocked me in animalistic attempts to
seduce me.
There was The Playwright, who
told me, of el Presidente,
"He loves you" and added
"And I do too. I always have."
And then there is my man. Whom I adore.
Who continually insulted and mocked me during the two years
we have been friends, and then
one night, decided that he was attracted to me.
And from then, there has been just one day on which we
did not speak. Just one.
He is my equal in all things. He fascinates me.
He makes me happier than I have been
in a very long time. He is leaving the country in a few months. He wants me to
follow him.
He has not told me he loves me and I
have not told him that I love him, but both of us are safe in the
knowledge that
we love each other.
I'd be surprisingly good for you.