Impass

We walked so far together,
grew while we strode
in this parallel line.

Moving,
not closer,
but further,
but never to
somewhere.

Each word discussed
formed a bond of trust
that we thought had no chance to rust,
for we were foolish.

It wasn't a partnership,
nor agreement.
It was just enjoying what
we had just happened across.

Each other.

But as time intended,
it would not last.

We bickered and fought,
remaining friendly outwards,
but the daggers were only
covered in cloth.

Destruction loomed.

The road proved kinder than the clock,
and a choice presented.

The fork.

The choice isn't always apparent.

To move forward,
to move back,
or somewhere new.

Or, as she decided,
to not move at all,
to stop the march
to anywhere but the end.

I can only move on,
knowing our friendship stops here.

To have it all turned about
would only be for use and abuse.

To seek middle ground
would be surrender for nothing.

There's nothing to seek anymore,
so I say the farewells never wanted,
and walk on,
my eyes to never cast view upon her again.

Tears of joy come from the right,
those of sadness from the left.

Tears of goodbye never came,
so I no longer know what to expect.

Just keep on walking.

To the pace of loss.