My boyfriend and I broke up. 
I told him I needed time; 
which turned out to be 
euphemistic for breakup. 
We were together 8 months
I admit I thought he was the one. 
We talked about everything it seemed,
good books, good food, good points, 
good possibilities of what we could be,
while basking in the glow, 
enjoying who we were 
when we were together.
We attended a wedding once 
where we danced the day away. 
Staring in each other's eyes 
as though we finally found 
what we were looking for 
while simultaneously wondering 
where we'd been all each other's lives; 
brought back to the reality of 
at least we are here now.
We had long talks in the shower, 
passionate debates in the shower, 
talks of things and those
we admired in their genius and 
their moments of wtf, 
in the shower, 
and of course there were other moments...
In the shower.
We couldn't get enough of 
each other's brain but 
I begun to realize that we 
couldn't get each other's hearts. 
We said I love you 
a thousand times 
and each time 
we thought we meant it. 
We took trips, 
wrote love letters, 
even poems 
for each other.
We read each other's stories
which we wrote before we even met.
I thought we were soulmates,
but to be soul mates 
there has to be a soul.
He tried to tell me 
on many occasions 
that his life, x wife, 
him not being with his 
three kids 
and child support 
was taking pieces of him 
he could no longer hold on to, 
but I did not hear him. 
He told me that he felt as if 
he was so trapped from yesterday
that he could hardly breath the air 
of his tomorrow's, 
but I did not hear him. 
He told me that the presence, 
connectivity, consumption 
and possession I craved, 
he could not give me. 
Not because he didn't want to, 
but because he was fighting 
for air, for freedom from his past, 
and his what seemed like 
would be all his tomorrow's.
He told me that my requirement 
for his emotional presence 
was perhaps hindered 
before we met 
and yet 
I still wanted to show him 
tomorrow 
would be a brighter day.
But with all of my tomorrows 
he needed me today 
and with all of his today's 
I needed his tomorrows.
It was too late. 
We were becoming 
the best of times 
and the worst of times. 
I wasn't giving him what he needed, 
he wasn't giving me what I wanted. 
So I asked for a break one day
when he looked through me,
past me, 
over me, 
around me, 
he did not see me. 
Although I saw him, 
I did not see him, 
the way he wanted me to see him. 
He was trapped by his 
yesterdays 
while I tried 
to run to 
tomorrow's.
We never came back 
from our break, 
it was over.
We stood there,
in a room 
whose walls once smiled 
at the meare sight of us; 
as if it was nothing, 
Now we were nothing 
but stubbornness, 
pride,
regrets on my part 
he denied his. 
Concluding that 
I would have never given him 
what he needed, 
I think that was easier to believe, 
it didn't require any more work 
and he could go back 
to comfort, 
apathy ,
que sera sera 
and I having learned 
a lesson 
that may never serve me 
because the moments 
then now and tomorrow 
had passed... 
The ship has sailed.