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By SterlingRose Date: 2003 Jun 14 Comment on this Work [[2003.06.14.08.03.8974]] |
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Brushing me off like a small inconvenience that tickled and tingled him but not enough to give him pleasure only irritating his skin. He did it so gently that I never felt offended or hurt. As a horse flits his tail to remove a fly from his mane only to return again and do the same. Eventually I tired and realized it was never going to happen. Many years later he tried to rekindle what never was only to find the same itching irritation like an old sunburn that has turned to flake sloughed away like dead skin. I hung on like an amusement to entertain his depression and loneliness, all the while knowing that again there were reasons beyond our consciousness that prevented us from being together. Suddenly - when his life took a turn and the end was in sight he threw me hints, invitations, propositions and proposals which I prentended not to notice and subtly ignored. Continuing to write him with poems, jokes, and friendly lore, silly memorobilia, and forgotten nostalgia of our families, friends, and more. His escalating depression weakened his gentle might it began to rule his every thought until he took his life. And I am left to wonder had I beckoned at his call his last hopeless "hurrah" could I have stopped it all. This futile waste of lifeblood his tormented apathy could I have helped prevent him was It pain received from me? |