Self-help books, lines within romantic fiction,
possible answers to can we just be friends?
Bookstore coffee shop tense rendezvous,
limited time after so many years, this is how it ends.
Because I don’t know what this friendship request means,
after all the fury and the hurt.
Neither of us more right or wrong,
things we shouted, dignity and respect left in the dirt.
If one of us were cruel, or the other untrue,
then surely we would not both bear this distress,
For God’s sake then seek out the holy man,
open your soul, witness the fault, confess.
But we left candles and statues behind,
keeping just the vows declared in youthful zeal.
Too young to make promises, our family now grown,
were we slowly broken on the wheel?
Hate is a word when the dictionary is closed;
love, a word, now as solid as shifting sand,
I never thought this would change, we were such a good team,
always hand in hand.
You said I lied, that all I wanted was to be alone,
I said you hid yourself in others' needs.
Philosophies unresolved, one-hour sessions with a stranger,
stony ground, expensive seeds.
There will come a time with relaxed smiles and embraces,
our children’s events, us both happily attending.
Friendship will return, as what never truly breaks,
needs no clever intervention, or drastic mending.
Sadness and regret may hold sway, but will be understood,
times heals, if we made a mistake, if we really got this wrong,
perhaps a kinder universe will see us good.
Then, if love was real, if the light in our eyes was truly bright,
these divergent paths cannot tarnish what was created.
You will always be my friend, let others criticise, judge us both,
their need for self-righteousness will leave them frustrated.
Happiness needs to be claimed, let our children off the hook,
Their lives, our proud achievement, that which forever binds us,
will outlast our chapters, our story, our ending, our book.