I caught up with a good friend of mine last night
after a year of not seeing each other.
I hugged him with tears in my eyes
and handed him a beer while we talked
about our shitty apartment we used to share.
I’ve spent the last year of my life putting
my pieces back together,
trying to make my heart feel whole again
but sitting right there with his arm around my chair,
drinking a beer, laughing at stupid inside jokes
I felt complete.
we didn’t even realize it was raining.
he doesn’t know me like other people do.
he doesn’t know that I write,
or that I have trouble sleeping at night.
but he knows about the lighter on the nightstand when I read,
what music I listen to when I clean,
how I swept the bathroom after I cut his hair,
how I look without makeup and a big tshirt on,
how I would sit criss-cross on the couch watching Scrubs.
he knows the side of me that is…happy.
and I realized when I told him goodbye at 4am
that maybe my heart wasn’t broken by the man I was engaged to.
maybe my heart was broken because I let a good friend slip away,
the only man who understood when I said,
“oh, shut up…just make me laugh, asshole.”
I think your heart breaks from the loss of innocence,
I think your heart breaks when the people who are suppose to be there