I am tired exhausted heart-is-going-numb

with ifs, maybes, and some days.

If I had figured out my five-year plan earlier,

If you didn’t have a previous two-year engagement,

If you weren’t loaded with half-lies to ease away your indifference,

If you didn’t have to go on a lonely one-man soul search,

If I had not needed to figure out what the mystery of love is,

If you didn’t have a harem of babygirls on call,

If your lifestyle ideal puzzle-pieced with mine,

If only you didn’t see me as a time-passer,

If only you’d grown up into a big boy,

If only we hadn’t been the fire destroying all the earthy goodness of the forest.

Maybe in the summer,

Maybe if I’m single,

Maybe if you’re single,

Maybe if I’m free this weekend,

Maybe in the winter,

Maybe if you’re on track with your life plan,

Maybe if I’m not distraught,

Maybe in a few years when you’re older,

Maybe if I was tougher,

Maybe if you were less apathetically blind.

Someday

“you’ll find a

heavily accented German/French behemoth male with lovely eyes and forget all about me”

“you’ll find a

a blonde skinny boy who takes you to the frigid snowbanked mountains”

“you’ll find a

[stupid] prince who wears the samecolor of blinding white you wear’

“you’ll find a

a largemouthed obstinate man who puts everyone in their place”

“you’ll find

The One [--this is a load of hogwash, rat brains, and cotton candy fodder that teenage girls encase themselves in, crinkly wrappers of naïve comfort.]

Someday

Well, I’d rather have a definite yes than all of that mangled halfway hope. The unreal ultimatums. The fake promises.

I yearn to give the yes that I crave.