Runner

Do you remember when we would stay up late on the phone?
I do.
We’d just be talkin’.
About everything.
About nothing.
All that I ever felt ended up in your ears,
your eyes, your arms, your hands and your heart.

Was it too much to carry?
Was I too much to bear?
Because all I can remember was all of the good shared between us.
And “good” doesn’t even do our bond justice.
People envied what we had.

Remember when the homeless man stopped us on the street and said “That’s a beautiful lady you got there.”
You smiled and said “thank you,” knowing that I wasn’t yours.
You smiled, because you hoped that one day I would be.

When I think of you,
I think of laughter first.
Then second to that is the way that you loved me.
You had this way of covering me with a world of affection even when you were away.
There has yet to be a man that makes me feel the way that you have,
because you were the only one who never had me in the ways that they did.

I was good enough for you with my clothes on.
I was good enough for you with my tantrums and my breakdowns and my questions and my concerns.
I was good enough for you despite my past and my unpredictable behavior.
When you looked at me, you looked into me.
And that was enough.

But then it wasn’t anymore.
Enough became too much.
You packed up your emotions and all of your cares and departed from me.
I found out why, after forcing it out of you.
I forgave you.
I stopped resenting you.
I moved on.

I could go on forever about all that I remember.
I could ask if you do the same.
But I know that above all,
you will remember the mark I made on you,
because there is no other woman who is capable of creating a love greater than the one you have for me.

It’s ironic how something that made you feel remarkable was the same thing that sent you running.

Poet: Stefanie Parrott

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