I,I,I,I, don't know what got me here.
My soul is impacted with heartbreaking despair, and logic is dim and unclear.
Should I have?
Should I have stopped him from walking out the door?
Should I have expressed my feelings more to the core?
Was I too intrusive or hollow during his moments of introspections?
Was I beastly in measuring his fervor revelations?
Now, I sit and stew and contemplate if we ever were compatible.
Now, I think that maybe I grazed his tender brow on how a relationship should work, and I think; is my demeanor implacable?
Was I on a collision course to destroy the nature of such an acquiescent and loving man?
Was I less attentive during our talks and more distrait and that, maybe that's how it all began?
Many days befuddlement has siege my mind rendering me illogical and blind.
Many days I find myself standing in front of the mirror, bare of any wanting to make anew.
Many times I tell myself that it was my phlegmatic spirit that causes our love affair to fall through.
Many days my brooding has no resolution, potion, or notion.
Maybe the situation is not as complex.
Maybe he will call or maybe he will text.
Maybe my state of mind is too devoured, and I care less what happens next.
August 6, 2021
Copyright © Mary E.W. Stephenson | Year Posted 2021
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