my eyes could say the strangest things

to her, to be, with me

but when she “misses me” i get the strangest stings

from her, to be, not with me

the light of my heart flickers, running around in rings

when i hear from her, to be, somewhere, not with me

now he’s entered.

an uninvited guest, in the house of the story of our love

the same story that I now know was never truly ours.

an unwanted pest, unknowingly giving my heart a shove

and he does the same to hers…

but in a different way, 

a way in which I envy.

for he has developed a skill that even I haven’t mastered

and yet I've tried it for hours.

not even hours

days, months, years in fact

for more than a decade.

and of course he is who this gift empowers

he, who doesn’t know her like I do

he, who hasn’t been by her side for as long as I have

he, who I can’t even consider competition

no, not in this position

because she's with him

and I can’t risk it all, everything on a whim

so I ask myself, my patience now running thin

is it to be, or not to be?

but with me, even though I know it's with him.