Number 2

May 15, 2010

It’s hard to maintain your purpose when you constantly jade it. I am a friend. A compatriot. A fun-lover to bring the fun out of you. I see you, dance, laugh, joke, then in an instant I am gone. I am here to love you when you need to be loved, friendly. I hug you in situations where you need the touch of a man. I rub your shoulders when you become tense. I compliment you when you need compliments from men that have no physical connection to you. This is my role; Horatio, not Hamlet, Watson not Holmes, Pippen not Jordan. I am the second banana, I am not your soul mate I am a temporary life mate. Yet when I kiss you I think differently. When I hold you for too long I become too attached. Conversations can’t end, I don’t want them to. Songs are too short to dance to. Nights can’t last long enough. It’s a hurtful reality. That’s what it is when you are standing in line and all you can be is number 2.


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