A Crooked Babbling Brooke - Poem of the Week

I’ll put up a disclaimer up knowing that this will get imported to facebook and the person who inspired this poem may very well end up reading it. I think lyrically this is one of my favorite poems. Not because of what it says but how it is said.

Check it, I love your guts, you know this. It was my fault for falling so quickly for you back then…but then again it was your fault for being so easy to fall for. ;)

Here is the story. I have a bunch of other poems about this attempt at a relationship. What can I say it impacted me. It takes place about 4 years ago in Provo. My boy Dave introduces me to this girl and she was stacked; so easy on the eyes and so much fun. It was one of those moments that when I saw her, I smiled and I knew I was totally screwed. It happens to me on occasion. I can make up my mind to like some one in an instant. It is a weakness and fault that I have. It has caused me quite a bit of pain in my life thus far.

I fell hard knowing full well that it was a dangerous path I was taking. Anyhow, we had so much fun hanging out and being friends and just comfortable with each other. After going out and being together and feeling like things were cool I started to worry and feel like she wasn’t on the same path…we weren’t really walking towards each other…more so parallel…I guess. I dealt with my insecurities and doubts the best I could but the time came that I couldn’t hold out any longer and I had to find out what, if anything, was going to happen.

So we’re text messaging and I ask the question. I don’t remember what it was exactly but it got me an answer. One I dreaded. It said, roughly, 'blah blah blah, something something something, but I’m not physically or sexually attracted to you.'

Ow. I mean, I appreciate the honesty, for real, I do. I don’t blame her for it, that’s just how it is sometimes. I’ve felt that as I’m sure we all have at one point…it just sucks really bad to be on the receiving end of it. It is that moment where the hope and the fear come together and join to somehow form a deep agony.

I hate running. I’m not a fan at all. I read that text and it all came out and all I could think to do was run. People say it is therapeutic. I say what ever works for you. But there I was, running. I ran and got tired and realized that I still had to run back. I came home and didn’t feel any better…worse now because my body hurts. Remember, I just RUNNOFT (catch the O Brother Where Art Thou reference) I’m not a runner so I shocked my body a bit.

I sat down on my bed and cleared my mind the proper Caleb Way. I let the ink spill. This is what came out.

A Crooked Babbling Brooke

What, I’m not good enough? Do I give up?
Close the door behind me?
Well, the truth hurts. And what is worse, it is blinding.
Constantly reminding me, finding my weaknesses, hiding.
Bringing me grief, stealing my peace, a thief.
She a beauty, and me, the beast.
These kinds of stories, with no happy ending, they adore me, they form me.
No more pretending, lending me fantasies that can never be, only possibilities.
My heart is adrift on random seas.
Play me a heartbreak anthem please.
I can’t breathe, with tendencies to grieve.
She’s out of my league.
It’s cold. I freeze. Oh reality!
My needs never met, bereft, upset.
Yet, I can’t forget, or let go!
Still, I know this is how it ends again.
Lacking, never packing the total package though.
I’ll be good enough for someone, somewhere, someday, maybe.
I hope…

Note: I keep hearing that 2nd to last line and while it may be true it does not bring an ounce of comfort or a hint of relief.