Lonely

Lonely was my childhood friend;

we did everything together. 

Long summer days were spent

roaming outside, playing pretend,

imagining friends and imagining I had friends.

Sometimes I did, though

nobody stayed for long.

But every time someone left,

lonely was always there for me,

reminding me what true friendship is.

Lonely would always be all I had,

and she never let me down.

Even through my caterpillar years,

she remained the same,

always remained. 

Remained, that is, until one day, when

I met Love.

I'd seen him around, 

but he had never looked my way until now.

Long days with Lonely

became happy moments with Love.

Love and I spent all of our time together.

But quickly came the day when Love, like so many before

(and like Love so often does),

said goodbye.

Maybe not forever

(nobody ever intends forever),

but for a while.

My life was filled with silence

and the old companionship of Lonely.

My season with Love had changed her, though.

She's a jealous thing,

an abusive lover,

who doesn't take kindly to being forgotten.

This slow winter,

wrapped in Lonely's cold embrace,

holding me

back.

My childhood friend and I

in all our years

have never been this close.