The Girl I don't Write About

Why is it that I do not feel inspired to write

About the girl who – what exactly?

Loves me the way I used to love you?

Who is telling me day and night, night and day

Every day and three times more for good measure

That she loves me, that she likes me, that

No one other will fit the romantic bill for her from here on

That she is horny and that she only desires me?

Why wouldn’t I want to write about someone

Who seems so into me,

I don’t know whether

To rejoice in it or despair over it

 

Why have I remained silent until now?

Why am I not moved to scripture,

Why am I not feeling the motivation

To pen this most peculiar happening?

Doesn’t it remind me of a younger me with you?

Is it pure coincidence or rather a sign from some heaven?

 

Why is it that I don’t write anything about the weeks, now months,

Spent on this ship listening to the girl who keeps professing

Her love for me, a love she says she’s never quite

Felt before unless she counts her first adolescent love?

Why am I not gushing and bragging over this manifestation

This outpouring of admiration, of affection, and romantic assertions?

Why the hell not? What’s wrong with me?

 

Why am I dreading this rather than bathing in the glow

Of something lovely and flattering?

Why?

Shouldn’t I have written at least a few entries by now?

Am I really this dead, this deflated and numb, this…

What’s the word – out of balance?

Is my yoni dried up, completely shut down?

Am I attracted in that way?

I don’t think so; it feels like I'm not

 

Is that why I haven’t written a single line until now

Is it too weird that it’s a girl?

Didn’t I say I am open and willing to try and be

With whoever catches my fancy?

Does it mean she absolutely does not do it for me?

Wouldn’t it be a waste of time for all these

Emotions to just remain suspended

Without destination or manifestation?

It feels like such a waste

Such a waste!

 

Maybe that is why I don’t dare pen anything about the girl

Maybe I simply feel too bad about it

Or maybe it’s because I simply do not believe in it any longer

Maybe my time to trust in love and more particularly in someone

Who’ll love me for ‘real’

Has come to an end

 

Is she but a mirror to my past, a rear view of what came before

And now, I am on the other side – so to speak –

And I see my actions from the outside in

And it’s both soothing to the ego and discomfiting in other areas

I don’t know which is more prevalent but both sentiments are present

 

Why am I not more excited?

Do I see too many faults everywhere?

Do I in the end not want to be a girl liking a girl?

Was it all talk, hot air and not what I truly want?

~And how is it that could I still want you ~

A year ago, I could have embarked and spent

A fortnight with you but instead you backed out

Better prospects, easier prey, more alluring youth

So many possible reasons for why you decided to abort mid flight

So why did I pen so much in your name?

 

Am I a glutton for punishment?

Am I?

Are the pointless, and the nearly inaccessible

The bedfellows I prefer choosing in the end?

Why again wouldn’t I rejoice in this? Why not?

Why do I think so much, and why does dread factor in?

This girl is the living embodiment of what I’ve wished for

Someone who loves the way I did – all in

Could I settle for this? No, there is no settling to be had

I haven’t come this far to settle

It’s either there, or it’s not, and it doesn’t seem like

What I see in her is enough – to attempt anything more

Than the uneasy and precarious friendship we have been

Engaging in for the time being

 

I can’t – I fear the possession, I fear the jealousy, I fear the fights

I fear not feeling what she feels – not reciprocating what she extends my way

I can’t do this to her – it hurt so much when I was in her place

I know how it was with you, the years pining over you

The back and forth, the confessions and the retractions

It wouldn’t be fair, no, it wouldn’t be…at all

 

So maybe all this is why my pen’s been silent in her regard

And what’s more preoccupying still -

I want to feel alive down there

I want to wake up, shake off dust

I want to allow myself to furiously love and be loved back

Come on, come on, wake up!

 

Goddamn it, wake up -

And you – you over there, why don’t you

Finally make a move and show me who it’s going to be?

If anyone at all…