Today’s crappy poem is a high school poem of the getting over love variety. Specifically, getting over dating one of your best friends and everyone knowing it.
“I’ll Be Fine” (me, Fall 2002)
“I’ll be fine,” I said to him when we broke up that fateful night.
“I’ll be fine,” I told my friends when I said that it was over.
“I’ll be fine,” I whispered when the teacher asked me how I was.
“I’ll be fine,” I answered people when they wondered where I stood.
“I’ll be fine” is what I say, though I really want to say
That even though I’m single now, I see what I gave up then.
I wonder if we’ll be able to stay “just friends”, as they say.
And once I think awhile, I know exactly what I mean.
“I’ll always love you,” I want to tell him when we agreed that it was over.
“I still do miss him,” I want to tell my friends when they thought we were perfect.
“It’s not just that,” I want to tell the teacher when she thinks I’m missing him.
“He’s wishy-washy,” I want to tell people when they think it was just me.
“I’ll be fine” is my translation for “I just don’t want to tell.
It’s too painful when I say it and depressing when I dwell.”
Then I think and then I know exactly what to say.
“I’ll be fine.” This time I know I mean it and really will be fine.