Things No One Told Me About Love
(1)
I didn't know that love could transform.
The way energy cannot be created
or destroyed;
it can only be changed
from one form to another:
from romantic to platonic.
That love is much closer to the laws of physics than we imagine.
No one told me about this.
Not you.
Not the friend I have long regarded as an older brother,
and have loved ever since.
(2)
No one told me that
if you love someone,
you'll see them in everything:
a wooden bracelet they might wear,
a dirty latte they might order,
a coffee shop they might visit,
a delectable pastry they might like,
a digital clock & wireless charger they might steal,
an analog Casio watch they might want,
a breathtaking view they might enjoy,
even a baseball hat that they might buy
because it's just their style.
No one told me, either, that
you'd still want to share those things with them,
even though texting them feels like a mistake,
because you don't do that anymore.
(3)
No one told me that
if you love someone,
sometimes you'll miss them in silence:
between places and in transit,
after events and before breakfast.
The day seems unbothered,
but sunset feels heavier.
You'll miss them, oh, so quietly
that no one even notices,
but you'd start taking longer walks,
just to feel something.
(4)
No one told me that
if you love someone,
you'll start finding words
to make sense of all the feelings.
Soon, the poems
that you have long deserted
will start to populate your head
once again.
And here I am,
writing four short poems,
for you,
the man who (I thought) I loved.
(5)
No one told me that
if you love someone,
you have to be ready to let go.
Your spouse is not yours to keep.
Your feelings are not yours to argue with.
Even your life is not yours to live.
