We all hold on to some things.
I wish I could have held on to you.
You were wild, and amusing, and so intense.
You were so willing, and giving, and so deeply sincere.
At thirty-two, I believed in you
but I hadnít learned to believe in myself.
At forty-four, I loved you more
but you had been gone then for almost ten years.
The wrinkles on our faces, the loss of a little hair,
the graying and the longing, the indifference of my heart.......
I just could not say "yes" to you and the insecurity of your world.
The fear that you really loved me was just too overwhelming.
What passes before me every day, too many times before noon,
are my longing for your children, my abandoned loverís dreams
and my constant wondering of you.
I am not pathetic, but I am so god damn alone.
Iím looking for you now, still beautiful, but 58.
You have grown to hold dear and have every one of your dreams.
What echos now are those unforgiving haunting waves you call words,
those given with wanting in your heart, "Iíll be the greatest man in your life".
paul vincent scholl