Oversight: Musings of the Broken Hearted From the “Toss” Pile

Early morning unfoldings
To anger and sadness
Is a challenging way
To gain consciousness.
My emotions swing on
A terrible vine in motion
From one extreme
To the other
When I think about you.
I don’t want to be this way.

The other day I tried on
Successful, “winning” ways
Paired with an open heart,
Not just going through
Motions to appear nice

But to feel kind too, inside
Even though pain and longing
Seep up and in
Causing butterflied axe tears
To cut through
And weaken my soul
And understanding of
What Is.

I tried once again
To cross another bridge
To be the first one to reach out
And be kind.

A quick text.

Amid wounded insides,
The move required effort and was
A tight fit
Like squeezing into a set
Of handsome, well made ski pants
My mom, size 00, gave me.
I found breathing difficult but
Cinched up with resolve to try,
I could stretch the material and
Close the metal clasp.

Days pass, no response.

I think you made an
Oversight in how
You appear
To have decided
To set up your life.

Professional organizers help us
Corral overwhelming
Piles of life’s clutter
By having us sort, 3 ways–

“Toss” what you haven’t used,
No longer have a need for
And that which
Does not add beauty
Or value to your current life.

“Donate” more of the same
Type of items which are
In good condition
That nonprofits will take
So that others may use, and

“Keep” those things
You determine you still love.

Somewhere, somehow
You appear to have
Designated me to the
“Toss” pile and
I don’t know why.
No argument or disagreeable event
Between us
Created this gaping rift.

We grew up together
We rode horses, baked
Played hours of board and card games,
Had sleepovers
And lived across the street.
Summers of hospital volunteering
Math courses, horse shows
“Soaps”, lemonade.
What free childhood fun that was.

Time passed, it always does
And our maps diverged.
We both moved away
Acquired spouses
Donned different careers
Had disparate lifestyles
And financial outlooks.
Still, there was always a coming together.
We were at each other’s major life events
Graduations, weddings, babies…

So there was expectation
On my part
And maybe wrongly
That we would be
Friends for life,

Maybe the nature of our friendship
Might change
Now and then, lighter contact
But I still thought

Being able to find you
Had always been important to me
Since good, true
Lifetime friends
Are rare and precious gems
Almost impossible to find
Especially for such a
Jagged, untrusting and
Verbally hobbled
Bird like me.

I do not often remember
Or am not always able
To express appreciation
As often as I should.
This remains my flaw
I have grown to understand
And seek to lessen.

And so even though we had
Less and less in common,
I missed you.

Attempting to ride various prongs,
I sent holiday, birthday
And/or mother’s day cards,
Facebook and text messages,
“I’m thinking of you and
Would love to hear how you are doing,”
In hopes to keep
Some semblance of connection.

I have been
Miserably unsuccessful.
My inboxes are filled with
No response.

Little by little
I heard less and less from you.

“I have little kids. You know how it is.”

I had young children as well
Coupled with a largely absent
Dysfunctional spouse
So I really pulled “double duty” childcare.

“My daughter has a mental disability.
That takes up a lot of my time.
You only have a physical disability
So you wouldn’t understand.
Mental challenges are
A lot harder.”

Until that trickle of your sporadic presence,
A belated, cursory birthday wish via Facebook,
Became nothing at all this year.

Now, I’m up against a wall of silence
Smooth, impregnable, unscalable
Baffling in its completeness and

I did not anticipate or
Ever foresee that
The price
Of my losing meaning to you
Would be so high
Or that this could even happen
And am left
At the side of an unpaved road,
Doubled over



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