The Emotional Orphan

I sit across the table from my best,
my only true-
life long friend.

I think of all the ups and downs
the ins and outs
the good and bad times.

I smile at the forgiveness
for things said that meant nothing
but felt like something at the time.

The shared meanness
neither of us can take credit
or blame for-

Today

It has just been
too long, and we
are so much wiser
and more compassionate-

Today

I watch the fluid motion of
calamari dipped in marinara
and remember when
others watched
his every move too.
For many reasons.

You could trust
he may not be
worthy of trusting.

The dance of his movements
were not that at all,
but a stage play, an act.

He directed, acted,
and was his own audience.
Me ?
I was
simply a groupie.

Not today.

We both know
he is leaving
and will never return.

I know how thick
and full his brown hair was.

I pretend not to notice
the silver ones
on his shoulders
or the bathroom floor.
Waving, like glowing
white flags of surrender
on the way down.

I note that the smell of blood is
louder than the smell of garlic.

I wish it wasn’t true
But I understand the myth of
vampires better.

Today.

He smiles that boyish smile
through old and crumbling teeth,
at the pretty waitress
the way he always has.
He squeaks a compliment
or some silliness
to make her laugh.

Like he always has.

I know he quietly hopes
it steers her attention
past the puffiness, bloat,
and the blood red
pin-prick spots glowing.

He feigns ravenous
though the fourth bite
of calamari did him in.
The ossobuco is yet to come.

I have learned to love him
past all the pain he caused
and time he has wasted.
I feel a little wiser,
a little kinder,
because there is only so much
time left before he goes.

Staring into the face
of Cesar in my salad,
I long for those times when we drank whiskey .
Lots of whiskey for no real reason.
I wish we could again.
Lots of whiskey for lots of reasons,
like to keep the waitress at our table,
or to keep us laughing at our favorite private joke
when she was on a refill run.

“Love her,
Leave her,
Liver”.

Why that was so entertaining when drunk
I understand now.
Why it is not funny now
I understand as well.

I am grateful we have come to know each other
as we were.
As we are now.
He has always been with me,
and I with him.

We have finally melded
into almost one.

There is still mystery,
There always will be.
Like why is it after all these years,
I still feel it necessary
to dine facing the mirror
so I can watch behind me.

My friend is leaving soon.
The mirror reveals
that like it or not,
when he does, I will go with him.
I will have no choice.

Not today.