What becomes of us?

This poem I am posting today is one I wrote shortly after having a long friendly conversation with my ex-boyfriend. The whole friends with exes business is tricky so I am not really for it completely. I feel as though to an extent you can be friends with that person but only if  it is a friendship purely driven by respect. I have come across my share of exes who don’t understand or respect boundaries which is why I am adamantly against it but even so, in the months following our breakup I found myself really wanting my friend back. We have gotten to a place where we chit chat now and again to stay present in one another’s lives but its not the same nor should it be. Anyways enough rambling on just read the poem and let me know what you think!

I wanted to ask if we could still be friends

But I was too afraid he’d say we couldn’t be anything to one another but the past.

So I buried that and about fifty other unanswered questions into the freshly opened wounds

Packed it tight like gauze but I don’t think that’s gonna help me heal.

In love, you either go hard or go home

Thing is, it isn’t all about you so hard as you may go, they just may choose to go home.

It’s been three years since then.

The necklace still sits in the engraved heart shaped jewelry box he gave me on our one year anniversary.

In the bottom  drawer of the nightstand lays a box with a green lid cradling cards and letters he wrote to me, photos we took.

And the bookshelf in the corner houses the brown bear he surprised me with one random bliss-filled day

All of these things used to cut me, bleed me empty but now they serve the purpose of memories.

Reminding me that yes, he loved me yet it no longer hurts when I think of how he left me.

I think that means as a person, I’m growing!

I talked to him today.

It felt easy, like just what it was…

Catching up with an old friend.

And those questions I buried years before were just itching to get out

I know now they have no place here in this time though

So I swallowed them whole, I didn’t choke

In that moment I knew we could still be friends

As long as I remembered we could never be more to one another than what we were in the past.

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One thought on “What becomes of us?

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