Squander

Last month
if you'd asked, I would have told you
I was numb with hurt
knowing for certian you didn't want me.
We've not spoken since that moment;
I don't know if I'll ever
want to give you something personal again,
and you,
well this silence is normal for you
so it's not surprising.

This month
a friend stopped me, concerned
asking if I was ok;
my eyes were red with conjunctivitis
and he thought I'd been crying.
Another friend sent me
a handful of emails one morning;
he'd read my blog and saw
a small comment about wanting
email to read.

Tonight I realized
you've known me longer than these friends have
but have you ever known me?
You were satisfied with
the first impressions and generalizations
made a year ago
regardless of the truth.

Maybe tomorrow
I'll decide which was the worst squander:
that your blindness
wasted a good friendship
or that my hope
wasted time caring for you.