Twenty eight years gone by
I hardly can fathom as I write
Since the conspiracy of you began
Whispers in my ear
Validating my dreaming
Telling me all I want to hear
The life and family
The harmony of souls
The now worn out cards of various variety
Torn and tattered are their books
Twenty eight years of questions answered
Yet you are nowhere in sight
I have felt your presence so close
You were almost physical
Then you are gone like a warm breeze
I am told soon, patience, plans, healing
Healing turned into a lifetime
My dreams of you stripped one by one
Are you a figment of my imagination?
A joint delusion of my path,
Simply a carrot held out as reward,
For being dutiful on my journey
You have turned me into an old cynic
I want to believe you still exist
Yet what excuse do we have for one another now
What have we been doing separate
Instead of supporting together
Could we both be that broken?
Did you lose your way?
Leave this planet?
Or did you exist at all?
Perhaps you gave up
Took another love
And gave her my children
Maybe you do not even notice my absence
You could be happy and oblivious
Why can’t my heart give up?
My mind has tried a million times
Why can’t I simply accept this solo journey?
Perhaps it was always meant to be such
But I grieve it all
As if it is real
Maybe you are but a vivid character
Of a book I am yet to write
A novel of unattainable love
That kind that can only survive fiction
I make plans for my life
With all the drawers filled
But when I visualize them into creation
There are always empty drawers for you
No moving forward
No letting go
Just agonizing truth of a ghostly figure
You have no form
Yet somehow I know your smile
You simply torture me
Heart weary I question
If you showed up now
Would I even care?
Would I even want you?
Could you even be half the man envisioned?
Could I be even half the woman you envisioned?
Or would we just be two disillusioned hearts
I process the anger
For the lifetime of support I did not have
Where were you?
Father of the children I do not have
Grandfather of the grandchildren that will never come
Why did I think you were worth waiting for?
What makes you so god damn special
Was there no plan B or C?
My imagination vivid
Visions so clear
Facts are fictions and maybe fictions facts
This day I sit alone and write
And you are not here
I may declare I am done with this
But I will awaken to a new day
And you will be there
Still invisible, untouchable
I will be a split personality
One part that never stops believing
And another that can’t sustain you
So much for 28 years of healing
There is no healing the figment of my imagination
Because he might be real.
Tatiacha ~ February 4, 2017