Bad day

When I'm sad I tend to write poetry. I feel compelled to write and it makes me feel better.

Today's effort is The Gulf.

The Gulf

Coldplay reminds me of you. We didn’t have a song, but I remember it so clearly, you sitting in the dark of the room, the music playing in the background. That’s how I remember you: salad days of freedom and my first taste of real love.

I never meant to cause you trouble, I never meant to do you wrong.

Years later when I recalled those moments, searching for a kind of closure when we came face to face after all that time, I played Coldplay again. The hot, salty, grief-ridden tears came easy then.

I’d never let myself remember those heady, truly wonderful early days. All night phonecalls, laughter, devotion, passion; we seemed to live only for each other. At least I for you. Out of control, all that had been held in, buried deep in my heart, hidden from even myself, suddenly released.

Dedication to you is what I can remember, almost to my detriment, but I didn’t care. For such a long time I didn’t care. All I could see was you. All I could feel was you. All I wanted was you. All that I loved was you.

The memories. Joy. The pain. Uncertainty. Fear. All so tangled together.

It seemed like my future. You, me, us. Now it’s my past. We have different futures now.

I was the one who left; that final straw breaking my back. I didn’t admit that my heart had broken a long time ago.

I love you still but your love soon turned to hate. I wrote to you, years after, trying to explain but you didn’t hear me. I remember your pride.

When I saw you again you kept saying that I knew you. I realised then that I never truly had.
A yearning for what I thought we once had. Looking for a spark where once there was true fire.
Wednesday’s child is full of woe.

Hollow is the space between us, the gulf widening as time continues to pass. Things are so different now and we are strangers. Strange yet familiar.

I miss you – the intimacy of that moment, watching you sit in the dark of the room, the music playing in the background, the feeling of my heart soaring with its love for you. I yearn to go back, but life dictates that I must face forward. “Experience is the most brutal of teachers, but you learn, my God do you learn.”

The pain endures, slowly fades, until the song is over. If I ever caused you trouble, I never meant to do you harm.