The Distance Between Then and Now

A poem for Tim

If you’re waiting to do something when the time is right then you’ll never start.

I meant to post this a couple of days ago (on his birthday). I was all amped to do it, ready to go, and then I just couldn’t hit publish. I’m not sure if it’s some quiet fear of how vulnerable I allow myself to be, or just the exhaustion that comes from giving so much of myself all the time. Either way, I didn’t send it.

I told myself I needed to write an introduction, to explain why I was putting this into the world. It’s Poetry Month, after all, and it only feels right to share more of that with you. But I couldn’t find the words to start, so I gave myself another excuse to enable the fear that holds so many of us captive, competently in place.

But today, I guess I found a little courage. Or maybe I just realized time was passing, and if I didn’t do it now, the month would slip by and with it, my excuse to fill your inbox with poetry.

This poem is for my best friend, the one I grew up with. As a kid, his love and our bond meant everything to me. Our friendship, like so many, slowly faded as we got older. I still remember the last time he reached out. I was with someone at the time who didn’t like how close I was with other people, especially male friends. I knew that keeping in touch with him would cause tension, so I let the silence grow. Looking back, that should’ve been a red flag, a clear sign that the relationship I was in wasn’t right for me.

I wish I’d explained things to my best friend. I wish I had let him know the shift wasn’t his fault.

I didn’t. Instead, years later, I wrote this poem for him. And this year, I finally wrote to him and shared it. I’m grateful for the gift of writing, for the way it allows me to tell the people in my life how much they’ve meant to me, even if it takes me years to say it.

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Thank you for loving me the way you did.
I should have never let you go.
No one has captured my heart the way you did.
It’s taken me far too long to comprehend that.
There was something pure about us, sacred.

I think life spun you round.
Now, the optimist I adored
Is someone who looks at life for everything it’s not.
You don’t like the hand you were dealt.
Played in the wrong way.

Now, that beautiful smile is gone.
Replaced by complaints and frustration.
I hope you find your way.
Forgive me for not guiding you toward it.

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By now you know I love to add a musical accompaniment to ground the understanding of what I’m saying.

This is the closest I could come to when explaining the grief of looking back at what we were to one another and how with time things changed.