Absence

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder

But through the endless wait

As boredom eats away at my mind

I am filled with an ever growing despair

For he never acknowledges me.

I grow in that resentment

The stagnation drilling it into my head

Until it becomes unbearable.

I had always secretly believed

That he truly cares for me

But the lack of communication probably meant

That we are even less than friends.

Perhaps I was just vain.

I had seen myself as something significant.

Isn't vanity the first sign of selfishness?

Dreaming is the second.

And that makes me very selfish indeed.

So I set out to replace these ragged emotions

With something more solid

To fill the tapestry of my mind.

Memories become more precious

In the passage of time

But it is also time that devours it

Besmirching it with unnecessary thoughts

Until it is a memory no more

But a manifestation of fictional half-truths

That you choose to believe.

With one desperate effort

I try to hold on to these memories

And make new ones

To fill those that he never gave me.

I fill my brain with strange and beautiful experiences

In a futile effort to smother my pain.

But as I lay in the comfort of my own bed

Mulling over these wonderfully bizarre things

My soul prepares for slumber

The intrusion of my dreams

And again my vanity takes over.

I steep in my resentment once more

For what are dreams than those precious memories

Corrupted by thought?

"I hate him" I say.

"I hate him" and with those three words

I renounce everything he has stood for in my life.

It is my attempt to forgive myself

For wasting all my precious time

Pining away at a dream that shall never occur

To become a coveted memory.

And so I repeat it in my head.

Even if it is painful.

For there has been nothing for me from the very beginning.

Only absence.