I once sobbed about you.
Sobbed that I was alone again.
Sobbed I had no one to cheer to and to joke.
I thought I was built to live in at least a diad.
But you urged me to find the pleasure in the singular.
To find the peace within myself.
And then the storms came.
The boat rocked.
Hurricanes turned my world upside down.
I was in a boat alone upon a sea of complete destruction
And I had to try and work the sails singularly.
I made it through.
My ship made harbor.
But my muscles have been toned.
My fingers have grown taught.
My sea scurvy beard grown out and thick.
And I stand upon this new found solid ground and I still miss you.
But my heart doesn’t break because I’m alone.
So thank you.
Thank you for pushing me out to the sea.
For sending me out in a bucket barely making it
Because I have returned a seasoned long horn.
A deck hand of my own sweet deck.
But I will never find the comfort in the lonely.
I still itch and hope for someone to stand beside me
But I no longer sob.
I’m fine without the lot of you,
But that doesn’t me I don’t miss you.