In the year, two-thousand and fifteen did begin,
A bond more special than skin on skin.
Years hence, far away in Florida's sun-soaked land,
His words reached out, lending a comforting hand.
He became family, a trustworthy friend,
A bond so deep, it seemed to transcend.
He cared for his mother and sister, so true,
Sharing his life and time, through and through.
Work's constraints and family's need,
Left scarce room for respite, never freed.
We met but seldom, as the weeks did pass,
Yet our bond was strong, like enduring brass.
Through conversations, a connection we kept,
While the moon through its phases, quietly crept.
My mother saw deeper, believed in more,
Saw a story yet to explore.
If he doesn't feel like I do, that's okay,
I'll take what life gives me, come what may.
Does he know his heart, its secret tales?
Are we just travelers, blown by life's gales?
Our relationship, a puzzle intricate and vast,
In life's grand tapestry, a thread cast.
He saw my flaws, my worst laid bare,
Yet stood by me, his gaze did not spare.
His constancy, a hope in the night,
In the face of my illness, he'd worry if I was alright.
His resilience, a testament to our friendship deep,
Against the tides of challenge, our bond did keep.
The future, a path we seldom tread,
In the present, our lives instead.
His patience, his care, like a soothing balm,
In the chaos of life, a much-needed calm.
Our relationship, complex yet filled with compassion,
His unwavering support, but a reflection.
Despite the intricacies of our shared history,
Our bond remains, a beautiful mystery.
