Wasn’t I there for you enough,
when you got a new job and
moved to the suburbs?
I’m sorry I was preoccupied for seven years,
trying to succeed.
Trying.
I didn’t forget you.
You were always top of mind.
It’s just that my dreams made me believe that
there was more out here.
And no,
if you’re wondering,
it wasn’t worth it.
It wasn’t worth losing you.
None of it was worth losing you:
the hundred-hour work weeks,
the months of zero dollars,
the time I nearly OD’d,
the time I nearly jumped off a bridge,
the time I nearly stepped in front of a bus,
the years of sprinting into relationships to avoid the dark.
I think I cried for a year.
And it wasn’t worth losing you. I’m sorry.
–
And I just keep thinking:
What is left,
what is left?
My B-dog is slipping from the material world,
my best friend from high school unfollowed,
my one-time protege unsubscribed.
I am alone.
And what is left?