You promised that you wouldn’t burn this bridge.
And I believed it.
For, despite the fact that you’d tweaked your social media settings such that I could hardly see anything on your profile, we were still friends on record. And that crucial Reaction to the video of my original song – yes, that one about you – how you chose to respond with the sobbing emoji instead of all the other possible Reactions. I’d considered that an acknowledgement of our predicament, and that if you could tell me how you felt in words, it would probably be something like this:-
“I’ve heard it; it’s beautiful. I’m upset too. I am so sorry.”
I thought that this was probably your way of maintaining this bridge – as a silent observer on the side.
And that, was enough.
A few days ago, curiosity gnawed at me and the temptation to visit your page arose.
I couldn’t locate you on my list.
Upon running further searches, it appeared that your profile showed up on a general Google search, but not on my internal list of friends.
Was it really necessary to block me?
Or perhaps, you had to take tangible steps to remove me from your life, because I get under your skin so much? If so, should I rejoice at this?
Your artist page (which I can’t for the life of me remember if I’d un-Liked, or if you’d removed my Like for) is filled with updates on your gigs, where you’re performing at, and that not-so-cryptic shout-out to her – “I was able to meet someone very special to me, and that has forever changed my life”.
I hope he’s just as special to you (because he is, to me); Please cherish him – you have no idea how lucky you are.
I was always an outsider in this equation.
It was her right from the start;
My appearance merely affirmed
The intensity and depth
Of your emotions
You might not have loved me
(For she’d already occupied your heart)
But I was important enough
To cause a
If removing me from your life
Is easier for moving on
I just wish
You’d never promised me otherwise.