I said a lot of things.
I said, "We are friends and that's okay,
that the silence, the distance would be fine."
But really I said,
"No, please don't go, don't leave when day is done,
don't give me a reason to let you go.
I love you but must let you go.
I love you; I love you so."
Is this a lie? To let things go?
Or is it truth to let things that are impossible
fly on down the road?
Yes, our roads converged once,
a spark of inspiration, of drive,
of mutual compassion once...
but now... only distance, silence.
What of this? What of this silence?
I said a lot of things,
but I was never silent.
I gave my silence to Him,
in hopes I was doing the right thing.
My words to Him went unceasing.
It was a gift I want now to return,
but love doesn't settle that way.
It remains; it sticks to heart and hands
like an adhesive.
It doesn't return until it has fulfilled its aim and duty.
It is with purpose as I am to be with purpose.
Its aim is my aim:
to care when caring isn't something fun to do,
to smile when smiling isn't what I want to do,
to listen but not speak...
However, one thing I did not say to you,
were the words, those words: "I love you."
Why? Because I wasn't supposed to.
But I do, I do love you.