She whispered his name into her coffee.
Watching the steam steal him away,
she sighed.
It took one moment, borne on the backs of many
to rumble the foundation soundly.

She still writes him letters.
Careful script swirls behind her eyes, but
she will never commit it to paper.
He said no twice.
Once would have been enough for most.
She is not most.

There are relations that remain
People he is close to who are close to her.
But she will call in no favors.
She just laments the loss again,
as her cup of coffee
cools quickly.

**
I’ve written often about the demise of friendship, about relations between people. I fucked up once, a long time ago, and shunned the one who loved me the most. I think because I understand finally what a heel I was, I want to talk to him again. He will have none of it.

And how does this refelect on recent occurances? It doesn’t. There was trust there, implicit trust. I have to say that I have tried to maintain friendships that have long eroded into shambles. But, still I try. I think I am afraid of feeling more of these moments, born of regret. Yes, I know it is unhealthy regretting so much. I regret hurting people. I don’t regret defending myself. I never did.

I still think about those I’ve left behind. It’s in my nature to contemplate relations, to puzzle things out when it comes to this human mess we are. I know at my door there will be D. And behind the door a cast of characters will evolve. I hope to include some in my travels, to see them locally within the next 3 years. And then there are those I know will remain here in Orlando, with their lives, and forget that a girl named Erica spent many formative moments here. I always refer to Miami as the base for my learning about who I was. I realize now that that mode of thinking does such a disservice to what was accomplished. Miami and Ft. Laud gave birth to pain, my own and my painful influence on others. Orlando taught me to heal, both them and me. And understanding that, I wish he would let me in again, just to say hi. He will never trust me again, and probably never speak to me again. That smarts. But, I understand.

This whole contemplative moment was born of a Cure song….gotta love evocative music.

Truly, I am in a great mood. But that’s for another post.