It’s Not Just

It’s not just that you’re gone
So completely withdrawn
Turned off and moved on

It’s not just that it’s done
That its course has been run
And my presence you shun

It’s not just that this hole
Almost swallows me whole
Pain consuming my soul

It’s not just that I’ve died
And want only to hide
In the tears I have cried

All these things and much more
Rendered lost and unsure
I battle to endure

The Missing Piece

She thought that it was finished,
She thought it was complete,
But the piece that lay within her reach,
That was brand new,
Unknown,
A breech
Of all she had imagined true,
Was telling her of something new

She was surprised to find it,
She was amazed it fit,
But the puzzle changed before her eyes,
It altered all,
Transformed,
Despised
Those things she had imagined true,
And told her there was something new.

She knew she could not keep it,
She knew it was not hers,
But the absent piece she hadn’t missed,
Until he came,
Unsought,
Gifted
A glimpse of something pure and true,
And left her ever changed and new.

Message Memories

I used to rush each morning
Were there messages to see?
Had you had a thought-wave you were keen to share with me?
I used to hold my breath until the screen displayed your name
And smile a kilo wattage grin
When you wanted me the same

I used to check so often
Had you something else to say?
Was there music you had written before time got in the way?
I used to hope and cross my heart in superstitious lark
And have my heart leap in my chest
When you had left your mark

I used to wait each evening
Would you come and chat awhile?
To tell me of your day and ask what happened throughout mine?
I used to relish the pure joy of time spent with my friend
And never thought that one day
It would all come to an end

I’ll always long to see you
Will you have a change of heart?
Will everything we had convince you that we shouldn’t part?
I still search for the words to pop up on my mobile phone
Telling me you miss me
And no more I’ll be alone.

Better to Have Loved and Lost…?

Since you’ve been gone, I’ve been thinking a lot about love.

The dictionary defines love as (amongst other things);

*A strong feeling of affection (noun)

*A great interest and pleasure in something (noun)

*Feeling deep affection or sexual love for someone (verb)

Yes. Yes. And yes.

So the question is, is it better to have had, or experienced those things, and then lost them – or to never have had them at all?

Greater minds than mine have sought to address this issue. Across time, countless books have been written on the subject of love; from the ecstasy of giving and receiving unbound affection, to the agony of having it returned, unwanted and despised.

And yet, we continue to love. We continue to offer our hearts, often, and even when we know we will be rejected.

Why?

My own view is that this is because love is, in most cases (but by no means all), involuntary. You can’t help who you fall in love with. Whether they are likely to love you back… well, that’s another story. But when your heart goes ‘BOOM!’, even the most level headed, sensible person can’t resist falling headlong into the high speed adrenaline rush of the love train.

If you’re lucky, your affection is reciprocated. But then, the chances are, it’s only a matter of time before one half of the love heart in the sand starts to fade. And eventually the tide comes in and washes it completely away. What happens then is gut wrenching despair as the unwanted party tries to come to terms with losing their love.

And this, I guess, is where the jury is still out on my original question. Is it better to have loved and lost – or never to have loved at all? Perhaps the answer is different, person to person, situation to situation… and whether it is asked at the very beginning, when the heart is so freshly wounded that pain is tainting everything with regret, or later on, when fond memories can be revisited and even enjoyed. Maybe it depends on how strong and deep and real your love was in the first place.

For myself, I would rather have loved and never lost. I suppose that’s a no-brainer. But also, my love is not, and never will be, lost. As Shakespeare so beautifully wrote in Sonnet 116, ‘…love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove…’. My love is strong and will always remain. My love may have to remain locked secretly inside my heart, and never manifested in the outpouring of affection that it so ardently desires to show. But it does not mean that it is gone.

I will never regret my love.

Stay gold.