When I was 15, I found myself with a boyfriend.
Oh, I tried to talk him out of it, and it only made him madder for me.
Six years, best friends, traveling and studying and idealizing and learning ;
layered with his attractions to any female , to all my friends, whom he either
kissed out of my life, or who found their own way , past his compulsivity,
back ,close , to me.
Studying psychology, it became his way to have important meetings
with each and every one of them, to "discuss their mutual attraction".
Eventually, I tired of his wandering ways- and surprised him
one bright fall weekend, by wandering , myself,
with some older one, waiting - breathless - in the wings.
By then, I knew to keep on going, on and off, far out of his life.
Years later, when my children were small, he 'dropped by' to visit,
but I knew. I knew him.
I knew he'd probably broken up , and was sniffing around, for possibility.
So I watched him sniff , then sent him on his way ;
my happiness and my beloved
a fruitful garden surrounding and completing me.
Years later , still he wanted to be friends,
but I have no time for him.
And I do hope, as a professional,
he has tired of those stilted ways.
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