Ode To The One That Got Away (or, The One I Thought Got Away, But Really Turned Out To Be A Small Fry In The Ocean)

Dismissive
I think back
To you
To our time together
And that is the word that pops into my head.
You treated me like a tag-along
A follower
Someone to morph and mold and change
I became a non-entity
I only wanted to please
I began to enjoy Eric Clapton, Chili Peppers, Jamaican curries
I watched Bubba Ho-Tep and chortled along with you
I sipped wine and read Buddhist teachings
I drank tea in small, out-of-the-way shops
I listened to Lauren Hill and Why? and Wyclef Jean
I loved your hands and your beard and your hugs and your cock

Then you left

And I think part of the reason that killed me so much
Was
Who was I?
I was a no-body
I needed someone to lead me
To show me who to be
So I floated
For too long I floated
Waiting for someone else to come along
And while I floated, I tried to change back to the person I had been
But I couldn’t
So I became someone new
Someone you wouldn’t recognize
And I liked it
I liked this new me
Because it was me, and not you

Then you came back

And I thought, One night
One night couldn’t hurt

And it didn’t
Because I finally realized
That you had no idea
About anything
You are not cultured
You read to seem worldly, and yet you are indelibly stuck in the here
Your hands were filthy
Your hugs held me down, made me slouch and contort and make myself smaller to fit into your arms
You could no longer please me

And I was free.