Ephemeron

Hello, Best Friend.
You found a best friend better than me
And I can't even tell whether it was a swift or gradual transition phase;
the details fade.
However,
what's for sure is that
there were fewer conversations,
fewer sessions of Instant Messaging,
fewer physical confrontations,
until we faded to black.

Hello, Best Friend.
You found a best friend better than me,
but this isn't about her.
It's about you.
It's about us.
It's about the concept of forever,
or conversely, it's about the idea of an ephemeron.
What we had still counts as one of the best times of my life and always will,
and it was short-lived,
but I swear we managed to pack infinity into one year.

I've been wondering for a while whether the ending of a song is better when the beat stops or when the melody fades to inaudibility.
So in essence, maybe I can still hear the rhythm of our life's soundtrack playing in the background, despite the blank screen.
Our life was a movie,
But since no one rolled the credits, I'm still wondering whether or not it's over.
But at least I'm certain that I'm no longer the star.

Who knew the binding cord of our fertile friendship was so ephemeral?
Who'd have thought that the sun of our solar system itself was not eternal?
I felt us drift away gently as gravity lost its pull.
I hoped I could teach myself forgiveness for the past.
I wished I could expel thoughts of you at last,
but then I realised, I'd like the memories of the times with you to stay,
for the sake of past joy,
and perhaps the futile wish that if I re-lived and re-lived and re-lived just those brief moments,
the pain of what came afterwards would go away.

We were once royals of a kingdom that flocked together every day.
Years ago, they were calling me the queen of a circle bound so tight by the adhesive of friendship,
and wild, and weird and nonsense conversations in gibberish that no one on the outside understood.

But something in our bond had an expiration date,
and as the odd number of us turned into a number of couples and one,
I wanted to say I miss you.
I wanted to ask, "How've you been?
But the knowledge that you'd be whisked away by her before we were thirty seconds into the conversation drew me back in,
Became such a hermit,
My spirit fell,
to forceful introversion,
seeking the comfort of my shell.
To deceive myself like I didn’t need help.
As a ruse,
It was no use
You are my muse.

I want you to say "I miss you."
And though it seems like I've closed you off,
I left the front door to my heart unlocked,
praying that sometime you'll dare to turn the handle
I want you to miss me
for the sake of reciprocity.
But the idea that I never left a void in your heart
nags at my soul,
causes me to wonder if I ever even occupied a part

But this is stunning inaccuracy:
I shoot, I miss, I
shoot, I miss, I
shoot, I miss you.
But I see you smile, so I know that you're fine.
I've seen her laugh at something you said, so I know that she's satisfied.

In case you were wondering, I’m still alone.
I'm followed by solitude like it's a personal raincloud above my head,
and I used my only outlet, my paper,
to write many words to you that you never read.

I wrote several letters to you that I never sent,
and there's no point to this poem other than to tell deaf ears that my emotions are spent.
I wrote several letters to you that I never sent,
and this poem is just another one your mailbox will never get.

This poem is an apology for the multitude of my explosions,
This soul is accepting that it's not that you don't love me;
You just can't do it like you used to (when she's around),
This poem is reparation for the repertoire of fractures,
The last four parts,
the last three false starts,
the last two broken ties,
the last one of its kind.

This poem exists for me to get a move on,
For what else is the point of an ephemeron?

This poem is a prayer that the bitterness of the last years will melt into insignificance through the proclamation of these words,
because my heart is tired of hurt
and this message felt like it needed to be heard
At least once
Before I finally
let the pain...
let you...
go.