will you?

will you be my friend?
there are so many reasons why you never should:
i'm sometimes sullen, often shy, acutely sensitive,
my fear erupts as anger, I find it hard to give,
i talk about myself when I'm afraid
and often spend a day without anything to say.
but I will make you laugh
and love you quite a bit
and hold you when you're sad.
i cry a little almost every day
because I'm more caring than the strangers ever know,
and, if at times, I show my tender side
(the soft and warmer part I hide)
i wonder,Will you be my friend?
a friend who far beyond the feebleness of any vow or tie
will touch the secret place where I am really I,
to know the pain of lips that plead and eyes that weep,
who will not run away when you find me in the street
alone and lying mangled by my quota of defeats
but will stop and stay - to tell me of another day
when I was beautiful.
will you be my friend?
there are so many reasons why you never should:
often I'm too serious, seldom predictably the same,
sometimes cold and distant, probably I'll always change.
i bluster and brag, seek attention like a child.
i brood and pout, my anger can be wild,
but I will make you laugh
and love you quite a bit
and be near when you're afraid.
i shake a little almost every day
because I'm more frightened than the strangers ever know
and if at times I show my trembling side
(the anxious, fearful part I hide)
i wonder,
will you be my friend?
a friend who,
when I fear your closeness, feels me push away
and stubbornly will stay to share what's left on such a day,
who, when no one knows my name or calls me on the phone,
when there's no concern for me - what I have or haven't done
and those I've helped and counted on have, oh so deftly, run,
who, when there's nothing left but me, stripped of charm and subtlety,
will nonetheless remain...

will you be my friend?
for no reason that I know
except I want you to.

_____________________________

i first read this poem by James Kavanaugh when i was in high school. for some reason, i just remembered it last night. i couldn't find my copy but i found my old news paper clipping about river phoenix's death. and some old poems, and some old letters... i fell asleep around 2 am.

my best friend, r and i had dinner last night. we haven't talked while I was on vacation and that was over a month ago. i missed her. she told me that she didn't understand what i was going through when x and I broke up. she said she thought, well...She lost her boyfriend... she's cried her tears, said her goodbyes...… why can't she just move on? i have to mention, though, that she's never lost a boyfriend ever. i guess maybe she thought i was over reacting until her hubby kinda shed some light. i would not have guessed he would. but he did. she said now, she understands that i didn't just lose a boyfriend, i lost my partner.

i remember what my old friend said when i broke the news that X and i had broken up. he couldn’t believe it… said that X and i were a partnership. a corporation. a team. we were indestructible. well… that’s what i thought too. i really thought we were going to carry each other like we promised when we just started dating. we’ve been through so much. we shared life’s little injustices, enjoyed sunshines, weathered storms, and laughed through everyday tragedies. i thought we were like marla and jack towards the end of fight club when the whole city was falling apart… and it was okay because they had each other… it was fine because they were holding each other’s hand.

so, then r understood, that to her, it may only seem like her best friend lost a boyfriend, but for me, i lost the man i planned to spend my life with. i lost my plans. i lost my happiness. i lost my dreams. i lost my love.

and that's when rage started to flood her veins. she said she was so mad at x for what he did. that when x and i were together, she was thankful and so happy I finally found... a guy who's true. and she couldn't understand how he could... i don't know... leave. and she wrote him a letter. I don't know what she wrote in the letter. but she said she was pretty livid when she typed. i could only imagine what she wrote. anyway, she said x didn't reply. I wasn't surprised. she said she wanted to talk to x... and that x said he wasn't ready. that was in april. i doubt he'll ever be ready. r said she's still waiting, i wouldn't hold my breath if i were her. i bet he's forgotten all about it.

i was waiting for a ride along buendia this morning when i knew. i just knew. i was running late and i just missed an fx, despite my efforts to run after it. i looked at the void ahead of me and as i felt the muscles in my face ache, finally, i knew. i have had enough. and i'm tired of crying. i am just exhausted and drained out of my mind. i have had enough. i'm done.

when i got to the office, i was somehow reminded that r's letter might have coerced x to send that letter where he was saying sorry. really? he had to be told that what he did was wrong? that he caused me so much pain? that he was an ass? and he couldn't figure it out by himself? really? come on... he's got to be better than that.

well... you know what? i don't even know if i care anymore. and i don't care that i don't know.