Too Soon

She asks why we can’t be friends
and I can’t go into it
at all.
I just say “Not yet,”
and hope that it’s not enough.
It never is.

I can’t be her friend
because I always wanted her,
there was simply the time
before I could admit it
and the time after.
We cannot return
to some fictional state of friendship
that we never truly shared.

I can’t be her friend
because I’m so hurt
and angry
that everything she says
that is not “I want you back”
is an inspiration for a rant
that I am unable to give.
I can’t yell at her
while I still care
– and I do care
too much.

I can’t be her friend
while I am so invested in a past
that I hunger to recapture.
I can’t be her friend
while i can’t be honest with her.
I can’t be her friend
while I still have hope.
I can’t be her friend
but I can state and reiterate
as a gem of truth,
“Not yet.
Not yet.”

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