a conversation we will never have

There is a conversation that takes place

in which I tell you

exactly why I say the things I do

sometimes

even though I know

you know

and I do it to upset you

without really thinking about it

until the damage has been done

Sometimes I want to throw sand in your eyes

so you can blink it out

for something you did months

years ago

that I never ever fully explained

how angry I was

These are stabs at a revenge

I deserve but you don’t

Because you’ve already learned and paid

more than I will ever begin to know

But I am leftover with so much hurt

and anger

that I am letting out in spurts

when I really need to scream

until I can’t

because I need you to know

that you hurt me too

and I don’t know if you get that

like I need you to

There is a conversation that takes place

where I tell you

Exactly

how hard it was

(is?)

to be your friend sometimes

But I don’t know how to say

how much suffering you caused me

how for months I felt

numb and ringing

gut-punched

like the wind had been knocked out of me

I don’t know how to tell you all the bad

because there was so much overwhelming good

that came with it too

more than I can ever repay you for

Like how we can never thank

the Sun for shining

But the months

of those whiplash highs and lows

were hard

There is a conversation that takes place

where I tell you how it feels

to sit and wonder

if your best friend is dead

How it feels to think about funerals

and dream of finding their body under bridges

bruised and bloodied

Checking traffic incident reports

because you haven’t replied

in an hour and forty five

and something twisting in your gut

makes you worry

I don’t know how to tell you these things

as facts and statements

and not accusations and guilt trips

I know you know

but I need you to Know

There is a conversation that takes place

where I tell you how I prayed

more times than I ever wrote down

on that very non-comprehensive list

How I prayed

that you would realize

I wasn’t a good friend to you

and that you would do better by you

without me

Admittedly, if He is listening

He has heard that prayer more than once

and I am selfishly glad

it remains unanswered

There is a conversation that takes place

fictitiously played out

where I tell you in person

(with a straight face and no tears)

how you’re a hard person to love

and I unpack, open palmed

all this hurt and anger and grief

that I’ve never laid out

and I leave it at your feet

and never have to speak about it again

because I won’t need to

And this conversation takes place

fictitiously

because I know

there will never be a place

or a time

appropriate or justified

for it to happen

So I will continue to have

these unfair outbursts

of kicked sand into your eyes

where no one wins

while I stretch out the unspoken context

I’m sorry.