The explosion of your anger:
reddened cheeks, clenched fists, gritted teeth.
"Why did you do this? Fuck you."
The unspoken, I could hit you. I could hurt you.
I know you have the strength. I know you have the size.
I sat on the stairs with our friends.
Your girlfriend sobbed. I wept, silent.
Nate followed you. I leaned on Ginger's shoulder.
Later I went inside, threw up all the alcohol.
When Nate found you, he brought you back,
and then drove us all home.
My heart pounded all night. I couldn't sleep.
I couldn't breathe. I didn't speak with anyone.
The next morning, I offered a heartfelt apology,
tried to explain, my throat sore, wanting you to forgive me.
You replied: "I quite honestly don't remember
what you may have said or done to me."
This is over. The remnants of our friendship, gone.
Swallowed with your whiskey.
Discarded with my half-smoked cigs.
Whatever once held us together has dissipated.
You used to make me feel safe;
I used to make you feel calm.
I don't know what changed you,
why you have become so loud, so angry, so cruel.
I shut down in the face of it,
terrified of your bulk. I thought I was losing you,
tried to hold on, tried to help you.
and you hurt me.
So now, I am leaving you.
Now, I am letting go.