Park Benches and Polaroids

birds

It had been two years since I've seen you.

This time I had to depart from you again,

but felt hope inside my chest;

a blossoming, melancholic deepness

a certainty tainted with practicality

and deep understanding 

that drove me to grinning, even as I had to wave "goodbye."

You blew me a chaste kiss through the car window,

your smile alight again,

familar and wide,

a glint of pain in your expression

within brown eyes and behind brown glasses.

The kind that comes with leaving someone you love,

even if it's for the best.

That's what we've been telling each other for years,

isn't it?

And although a part of my yearns

(the same part carrying me thorugh each of these poems)

for a time when that may be over.

To be reaquainted so quizkly after so much happened,

only to leave in the same day;

it did not break me,

but hurt doesn't have to be devastating to be felt.

So much of what we consume, what we see, what we listen to on the radio

tells us that love will conquer.

The movies break off the narravtive 

when the couple reuintes with a kiss again

after getting off the plane or train or boat,

standing at the window with a stereo

and oh yes! everything is as it was! it's safe and perfect and you never ever have to worry about msunderstanding or communication ever again!

but they do not show us the years after --

the fights, the ambition, the teeth out and the clash of dreams.

At least, this is what I imagine.

This is what I have seen.

Young love has consumed me, 

consumed me for years

ate me up and spit me out and made me search and long.

Along with these tender emotions, willingness to open up again

my soul knows that is not enough to have this declaration

be the relationship,

and distance will hurt me more than

being with you will,

my dear.

Although it made peace within my heart,

our reuniting, tears shed and hands clasped tight,

relieved expressions and a gentle kiss on the forehead,

oh god I've missed you so much, I have always felt it so deep...

it will not repair the days where I am 

desperately crying in my room alone,

needing someone next to me at night,

or unleashing a deep introspection that took me years

to put words to;

to have you show up to my orchestra conerts,

and put your hand around my waist when I'm done

and tell me how in awe you are.

How in love you are

with me,

sealing it with a kiss.

I know

those require you to be there.

And I know you cannot be,

no matter how much space our love takes up

between the two of us, miles away.

Your love soothes

but it cannot build a relationship.

Your love fills a hole within my chest,

a question that had burned inside for years, burned through me

causing more pain than I was ready to understand.

Your love helps me feel whole as my current self,

yet that self is not ready to be with you

to weather the miles between us

and the space within communication.

This dream must be put on hold

to let the ones made for 

thw people we are now:

young, excited, needing more, learning more

to show us the way to where

we may meet again.