Peaceful Poetry

Walking past enough groups, I found a flat, grassy patch of Alamo Square to call my own for a few minutes on this sunny San Francisco afternoon.

Mr. For The Afternoon was with me. This would be his last one-on-one pseudo date with me. Nice guy, but no.

I looked over and saw this couple laying together under the blanket they’d brought to lay on. It was loving and sweet. Facing each other, him keeping the blanket over her. They roll away, back on top of the blanket, he’s up checking his phone. It’s Nick. The last guy I cried about.

I watched them have their sunny afternoon at the park. And I watched myself watch them. No reaction. Love. Appreciation. Comfort. Acceptance. Peace.

I had a good time knowing Nick. We were good to each other. But we didn’t break through very many walls in each other. We just didn’t go there together. For whatever reason. No love lost. Well, no love found either. Which was the whole problem, in fact.

How beautiful, though. My reaction. That’s a person I know. Who I care about and enjoy. And he looks happy. And so am I, for the beautiful, poetic afternoon.

(This is the full story, related to the poem version below)