Friends

Friends

I

We were friends,
Way back and back.
Back to the good old days
Of preschool and play dates.

As the years went on,
We grew up, grew apart.
Forgot and moved on.
But, of course,
We were not to stay apart.

We found each other again,
Years later, experiences, changes and all.
We went through the process again:
Met, and became friends.

This time was great.
I had fun with you,
But we never bonded completely,
The friendship still too new,
Yet as old as we were.

But the calls and contact stopped.
I was sick, you were busy.
Things seemed to fall apart,
And we never got our chance.

As we moved on,
Still friends, but never close,
You changed.
You had new friends,
A new life.

You changed so much.
Your disposition hardened,
Like every other boy I know,
And became a new person.

This new person is not the same,
But I know the old one is still there.
That is why I am still here, too.
I will wait until he comes back
No matter how long it takes.

Where is that cute, funny, sweet,
Little red-headed boy,
That I used to know when I was young?
I don’t know, and I’m not sure you do either.
And this is what hurts the most.

II

This new you,
The one you don’t know you’ve become,
I’m confused as to whether I like him.

You’re going to have to renew,
Redeem and review some,
Or the chances seem immeasurably dim.

I remember the little boy,
That had freckles and blazing red hair,
Who would laugh and talk and play.

And I would jump and shout with joy,
If the facts that I cannot bear,
Were reversed and he came back someday.

III

I remember the teenage guy,
That would ask me silly things,
Who made me smile and laugh.
He was funny and unique,
And would say what he felt,
and felt what he’d say.

But he’s not around much anymore.

Now it really stings,
When I think about these changes,
Because I don’t think you’re happy.
And that’s what I really want.

But the pain that this all brings,
And the awkward, sad exchanges,
All feel dazed and sappy,
But you’re always so nonchalant.

And, blatantly, I’m scared.
I don’t want you to be,
One of those cocky, awful boys.
And I’m terrified,
That maybe,
you’ve always been this way,

And maybe I didn’t know you well enough before.

But I don’t think that’s the case.
Your new friends,
Your new life and way of being.
You say you’ve noticed it too.

And if the world were all of beauty and grace,
You’d put these awful ways to ends.
The change would feel so freeing,
That I know I would forget and forgive you.

So, please, if you’ve any sense or humanity,
You could go back to the way you were,
When our friendship felt right.
But maybe this all
is just a bout of insanity,

That I’m not sure is real.