We're friends still.
After the touching and the looks.
After the kissing and the words.
After all the days and all the nights.
Now we're just friends.
But sometimes you still reach out and touch.
But sometimes I think I see what I want to see in your eyes.
And it confuses me.
Because we're friends now.
And I know the day will come
Where as your friend I will meet the new girl,
You'll introduce her as more than we ever were,
And I'll smile politely outwardly
And weep pathetically inwardly.
And you will never know because
I will never tell you.
I will never tell you that at night
When I'm still awake at 3 am,
I remember the feel of your warmth next to me in bed
And I miss you.
A really moving piece. This is that friends/lovers conundrum that people seem to suffer the effects of all too often. Should we cross the line/shouldn't we? and if we do, can it ever be the same again? In my experience, it's something we pretend we can get on with but, as your poem suggests, the reality is rarely so simple.