Week 13

"I'm seeing someone."
The words echoed in the quiet car,
"I knew this was coming," he said,
his voice broke,
my heart broke.
This was one battle I could not fight with him,
this was one cross that he had to carry
on his own.
I wish I could help him.
I did love him, do love him.

My friends said,
"The ship has sailed,"
but the ship never left the bay.
Instead it rested and rotted
and fell apart,
yet the skeleton remained somewhat intact
so if you walked by, you could say,
"That was a great ship,
I wonder what happened."
I wonder what happened too.
Why was I not good enough when I was there?
Why is hindsight the only time he cared?