Wasim

Wasim
I don’t know what happened.
But something changed.
It was not the body, though that didn’t hurt either.
The toned biceps that fit nicely with the golden tan.
I stared at his perfect bouncy curls.
I blinked, trying to focus on what he was saying.
I hated chemistry, but he was really smart.
Another bonus for him.

I could not stand sitting next to him.
He always knew what to say to make me blush like crazy.
I don’t think he ever noticed though.
I covered it well.
He told me how he liked my best friend,
So I told him how I liked a Puerto Rican.
I was cool with being friends.
Sitting next to him,
Laying my head on him,
Confiding in him, acting like I wasn’t catching feelings.

I contemplated telling him or not.
I went with bot.
I didn’t want to complicate things.
Not to mention the day I decided I really did like me,
He told me he was moving.
I was shocked.
He had become my best friend.
I could tell him anything and I told him everything.
Except for the one minor detail that I had a crush on him.
But none of that mattered as the reality set in that he would be miles and miles away.
Chicago.
Of all places, he had to end up there.
At least he knows know how I used to feel.
I still miss my best friend,
And his perfectly toned body, beautiful smile, and cockiness in the classroom.
I still haven’t found anyone like him, though I have moved on.
Every once and a while I’ll talk to his old friends, but they only remind me of him.
How I was.
How he was.
How we were.
What we could have been.
But it’s too late. He’s gone.
I’ve moved on.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741