When your emotions go through a bad patch
there will usually be sympathy,
shoulders that you may lean on, or cry on,
will be generously offered to you,
you will be allowed to sob out your grief
and told it is all unfair, and a shame.
Of course this situation cannot last.
After, maybe, a year, you will be told
that there has now been more than enough time
for you to have gotten over the thing,
really, you are starting to be a bore,
you should stop feeling sorry for yourself
(when anybody wants to put you down,
the "self-pity" card will be trotted out).
So you understand you are on your own,
you know you must make more of an effort,
you must hold your head up high, you must smile,
you must pretend that you could not care less
if a certain person should be mentioned,
you must plough into today's social whirl.
It is difficult if you are too shy,
if you happen to be an introvert,
if you are too serious by nature,
and are far too vulnerable to hurt.
As for ever forgetting what happened,
the very idea is ridiculous:
when you have behaved like a complete fool,
when you have dragged your pride through so much dirt
that you cannot look others in the face,
when you have spent so many nights howling -
how the hell are you meant forget all THAT?
Worst of all, it has all been your own fault,
you cannot blame anyone but yourself,
you behaved dreadfully - you should be ashamed.
You know that! You know you were in the wrong,
you know you brought the whole mess on yourself.
So now, decades later, you write this poem,
that will soon appear anonymously
on someone's internet screen to be read,
and perhaps dismissed as so much drivel,
and you will wish to God that you had jumped.
January 14 2020 - "Dear Heart" - Silent One
Copyright © Beth Evans | Year Posted 2020