A letter to my more than a friend,

but less than a lover:

 

 

Oh, how I wish you had said yes,

When I asked for you to come inside.

There was a hesitance in your eyes,

a battle in your head;

the yearn to affirm,

yet the yearn to decline.

Lucky for you,

your heart already made the decision-

one that severed mine own

with exact precision.

“I should be at home,” said you.

“I’ll text you soon.”

And so, you had left;

I was all alone.

I had always thought

that I was your home.

 

 

Oh, how I wish you had said yes,

when I asked if it was a bother

that I was seeing another.

There was a shift somewhere within you

as soon as the words were spoken.

Secretly, I hoped your heart had just broken-

that you would realize you had to choose

between being something more,

or testing our amity to its core.

Instead, you had said,

“It’s not an issue

If you guys are a two.”

And you had left

with no further reply.

I had always thought

that the two was you

and I.

 

Oh, how I wish you had said yes,

When I asked if you felt the way I did.

A resounding silence fell,

One that made it hard to tell

If we were to be made

or destroyed.

But your answer, I always knew-

I just hoped it had changed, it’s true.

“Sometimes I can see us,

Sometimes I can’t,” you had said.

“But we’re better as friends-

that much I promise.”

Eventually, you had left,

after repeating regrets

and reassurances.

I had always thought that we

could be,

whatever the consequences.

That much, I promise.

 

Oh, how I wish

that you had

said yes.

 

Sometimes,

I’d like to believe

that you wish that

too.

 

Forever yours,

your best mate.