#11- Up, Rising.

#11- Up, Rising.

A Poem by Paper
"

Hesitation, fun, and uncertainty.

"
I look at the faces
Of women
I might meet.
Scrolling through 
The odd catalog
Of near and present hearts.
That was once my profile
On a forgotten dating site.

A familiar ding.  
Attention shifts quickly.
Window closes.
"When's it start?"

The big update, today,
To our favorite game--
The one we were playing
When we met--
Only twelve minutes away!

"Wait.  You're not ranked
This season yet?"
She asks.  Confusion.  
Regret?

"No.  No, you see...
I haven't really
Played 'Ranked'
Since..."

A knowing pause.
Air grows thicker.

"You and me" 
Haven't played much, Miss.
Not together, at all
At least.
For many reasons.
And not since 
"You and He."  
And the former ceased to be.

But today, that doesn't matter.

We both missed it, 
Terribly.
Made plans to play together.
Schedules cleared.
Excited.  Eager.  
Just happy to do something 
We both love
Together.

Friendly.  No arguing.  No drama.
Just us. 
Laughing and smiling with each other.

Two PM.  
Gates open,
Engines blazing
Out of the gate.
Euphoria.  
Just to be doing this.
With you.

Just me
And her.

But,
"Unexpected Server 
Error Occurred."

A pot hole. Speed bump.
Then another one.
Again, another.
Another, still.
A heavy slap 
To the face.
Reality
Sets in.

"Do you think you'll have time 
To try again tonight?"
Defeat.  Dejection.

"Oh, definitely.
Well, probably.
I'm going to try."

And I let you go, 
For the afternoon.
You tell me to just play 
Without you--
And I,
Mad and frustrated.
Thinking the worst.
Losing interest in playing.
Agree, halfheartedly.
Again.

She's not coming back, is she?

---

A familiar ding.  
Attention shifts quickly.
Window opens.
Hours later.  
Disbelief.
"Yo, you ready?"

And suddenly,
Things are back 
To the way they were.
At least ninety percent there.
Perhaps more.
Who can tell?

Even if, maybe, 
My humor a little less risqué.
Even if, maybe,
A few fewer giggles today.

But I could have very well  
Been mistaken, tonight, Miss.
In thinking nothing wrong 
Had ever happened between us.

How surreal it was, 
To hear your laugh again.
You always sound 
So tired and stressed 
These days.
Miserable.  Depressed.
Worried.
And thoughts and feelings, 
Compressed.

I can't say I've been much better.

Hours fly.  Both of us, 
Somewhat nonplussed.
How much fun we're having.
How smooth things are going.

And I, happier than I've been 
In a good while,
Imagine you feel 
Something similar.

Oh! To have silly conversations 
And joke about whatever,
Once more!

For something wonderful
Up, from the grave
Rises today:

Out of the blue,
"My friends have been telling me 
That I should be a voice actress, lately,"
You say.

I laugh. I smile.
A grin, roguish and playful.
When many months ago, 
You told me you thought
Your voice disgusting.
Distasteful.

"Because it is!"

Not true, at all, Miss.
Please,
If you would recall, 
If you can,
It's sort of how 
This whole thing began.

That one afternoon,
I sent a friend request 
To the girl 
With the cute voice in comms--
I'm such a shitter!

And when I told you why
One night, 
Months later,
You scowled--
And I snickered.

Even now, reminiscing,
I smile.
How very different
From thinking
All we do now is bicker!

But worry returns.
Your mother calls.
Once, twice.  On and on.
I hear snippets 
Of something,
Mood suddenly grey.
But I stay quiet.
Not my business, 
Not anymore, anyway.

But moreover--
Tonight, it's quite clear.
Something I've noticed.
Have you 
Seen it, too?

You speak quite differently to me,
Miss,
When He's not around you.

The language, the tone.
It's easy to tell.
When He's in the room.
Or somewhere near.
Or His presence, still fresh.

Hesitation--the kiss of death.

More defensive, you are.
More worry.  More fear.
Or tension, in your words.
Picked and spoken carefully.

So, too--my name, as well.
A very special,
Private,
Shade of Hell.

I don't think 
We've ever talked, Miss,
About how creepy it feels--
Perhaps having lost 
Some karmic game--
That He and I 
Should have 
The same first name.

And that pretty much from the start--
Even before things fell apart--
You used our 
Mutual name to talk 
To me about Him.

But it's plain to see,
In conversations I enter--
Words in text or in vapor--
Between you two
Or just us, three.
Now, forever, 
I'm only "Paper."

Thinking further, 
I suspect, 
A curious detail,
I might have found,
That we seem only to argue 
When He's recently been 'round. 

But the thought, passes quickly.
As does the night.
The fervor.
Because at the moment
Your voice is 
"...As lovely as ever."

And so the night ends,
With "Good night, 'NAME'" 
And a giggle.
And a smiley face. 
From you--
Which I thought you said,
The other night,
Was now illegal.

After talks
Of doing this again,
I log out for the evening.
Confused and wondering.
Why I'm thinking
And feeling
The things that I do.

In the moment.

As I re-open
The odd catalog.
Faces of whoever.
Inside.
Outside.
Inside.
Again.

© 2017 Paper


Author's Note

Paper
Long piece. Lot to say. Lot on my mind at the moment.

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...
long but this one keep my atention. Walk over words emotions hopes and lost. Some like story in diary . Have nice flowing nice form.

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 2 people found this review constructive.


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Added on April 12, 2017
Last Updated on April 13, 2017
Tags: romance, relationships, loneliness, depression, friends, fun, video games, doubts

Author

Paper
Paper

OH



About
I'm 50% hoping That you find this, Someday, Miss. And 50% hoping That you never do. That you never know the truth. And all the feelings And thoughts I'll Never Directly Tell you.... more..

Writing
#65- Sancho. #65- Sancho.

A Poem by Paper