OVERTURE**

I had this guy-- he was pretty special.
We had something special.
I loved him.
I believed he loved me back.
But we were both hostages of our pride.
We are prisoners of our own emotions.
Never wanting to be the first to break the silence.
We dreaded rejection.
We feared disappointment.
We avoided failure.
We waited for each other--
of who would raise the flag first.
But somehow, we grew tired of waiting--
until we strayed away.
And  until now--
that stench of WHAT IF is still hanging around somewhere.
WHAT IF I gave in.
WHAT IF we had something right.
WHAT IF we had a chance.
What if. What if.
I loved him-- in a very very dear way I know.
And somehow-- I just wish he knew.


**an old blog for an old friend
2005