We did it, you know...
made it thru a whole year
together before you
decided it was time
to tell me goodbye.
It's February now.
By last March,
we were already
steadfast friends.
You sent me an e-mail
at my work asking if
I would drink any
green beer that night?
Instead, I came in
to see you at work,
show you my green
shamrock socks...
and you laughed.
By Easter, we were
talking about everything.
I was dreading being alone,
but wrote to tell you
how surprised I was
that their dad brought
the kids to me at church,
dressed in their outfits.
In the Spring, you
would stop by and
play basketball with
the kids and we came in
to see you at work,
brang you treats,
caramel apples
and lollipops.
During the summer carnival,
you whispered that you loved me
as my kids raced to the minivan,
the lemon shakeup we bought you
in your hands, and then you
danced around the restaurant
kitchen, chanting, "I got a
lemon shakeup, I got a..."
On the Fourth of July,
we talked together on the phone
about the fireworks display.
As Summer flew by, we
enjoyed the last evenings
by lighting candles,
drinking a bottle of wine
and looking up at the
stars from my back deck.
In the Fall, we watched
your son's football games,
went to Bloomington
with wind whipping thru
our hair, windows down,
singing to Shawn Mullens,
shopping at quaint stores,
and laughing at the
Buddha figurines.
As winter chill settled,
we spent many nights,
cuddling together,
watching movies in
each others arms,
making love.
At Christmas, I had already
fallen in love with your boys,
and you took me to meet
your parents. You were
at my work Christmas party.
We went out to dinner,
just the two of us, and
you gave me what, to this day,
is my favorite necklace.
New Years Eve~you, me, our kids
were all together eating
the way-too-many
hors d'eouvres I fixed,
drinking champagne at
midnight as you toasted
to our new friendships.
February...
and you tell me it
was all a lie, all the
whispered "I love yous"
over the past year, all
the midnight phone calls
when we confided our
deepest secrets and fears.
It meant nothing to you.
And I'm supposed to
believe that, be strong,
and learn to forget you.
