bloggity blog, poetry, writing

not a fish

In the forest, by the stream, is where I fell in love for the first time

I hate the term “the one that got away” because a boy is not a fish


We spoke on phones with cords

Respectively sitting by walls, wrapping spirals around our fingers

I still remember his laughter in my ears like a bird song sung only for me


If anyone asked, and I answered, we were just friends

If anyone asked, and I answered honestly, I would say we were meant to be

He was the boy that brought a towel to school on towel day

He was the boy that called himself Barry simply because it was not his name

He was my boy, not a fish, who I could not wait for

Patience was not yet my virtue


I still remember the way his arms wrapped around me

Breaking out of the hug first is something neither of us wanted to do

“You hang up first.” “No, you hang up first.”

Wrapped up in arms, and spiral cords, and book pages, and silly nonsense

I still miss being wrapped up in him


He needed time, heart freshly broken

I wanted love, in any form

A dragon came along, promising a cave of treasures and I followed into his den of lies

My boy, not a fish.

catch and release.


Life moves forward, a stream passing

The boy, not mine, lived around the corner the whole time and I did not know

Parallel lines

never touching

the same, edges matching

able to fit perfectly, but never possible

Fish in the same stream

maybe one day we will meet again…


PS Well, this was part story, part poem… All true. I did recently find out that this boy, obs now a man, literally lived in the next street over from me for the last 12 years and we never once ran into each other. We never dated but we were friends for years, dating other people but always remaining close, besties before that was even a word. I always thought we would work our shit out but it didn’t happen. One of us was always either with someone or getting over someone. We were just kids and being “with someone” was rarely more than stolen kisses and held hands. Once me and GD got together, I was no longer allowed to speak with Barry and, for some reason, I allowed that to happen.

I don’t know what made me think about him tonight. Maybe because I was thinking about patience. About how important it is in relationships. About how rushing things can harm the relationship. Patience with each other, giving one another time to heal and giving lenience for old wounds. Patience with the situation and just relaxing and enjoying the journey. Patience and compassion for one another and trying your hardest to get out of your own head and into the other person’s shoes. 

He was the boy I told my past self I should have kissed. But looking back, I was trying to let him make that first move because he was the one with the broken heart. But I wasn’t willing to wait long enough.

I have often hated on love on my blog, but I do not hate love. I am loving on love tonight. I believe in love. Some of us get it, some of us don’t. But if we do find it, we shouldn’t take it for granted, or hold on too tight, or walk away. Love is like a bug in a jar (stay with me here) You need to keep it close but let it breathe. If you leave it alone it can die. CONSTANT VIGILANCE … sorry… random Harry Potter reference because this post is way too heavy…

Love, Lemons


42 thoughts on “not a fish”

  1. That’s a very heavy fish, it would need plenty of lemon juice. The memories of such delicious young tastes are delightful and fairly permanent on the palate, 🤔I still remember too 😉

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Fuck. You’re absolutely right, Lemons. Wisdom managed. Patience is difficult, but it’s so important. I’m reading this at work… and I hope no one comes to my desk right now.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I know I’m right. lol
      Patience is so fucking difficult. It takes a really long time to master and even then it is never perfect. And patience is only for some people. Some people do not deserve patience. Some people deserve extra.
      You hope no one comes to your desk right now?


  3. “but I do not hate love, I am loving on love tonight.”

    That’s a poem in and of itself.
    Remembering past love is usually bittersweet. Depending on how special it was usually determines which of the bitter or the sweet stands out =)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, hunny! This remembering is bittersweet. Much more sweet on my side of the fence. Seeing as though I completely ditched this boy for another… probably much more bitter from his side. But we do shit in our life that is shitty. Doesn’t mean we are a bad person. Just means we made terrible decisions. In my case, it was a decision which resulted in my two kids, so not completely terrible… just terrible to him.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. In my heart of hearts, I hope you re-connect with that man, if for no other reason, but surety’s sake. I still remember the first girl I with whom I was enamoured. She married well, as did I. She still has her husband, whilst my wife has gone on to the ether, as you know.


  5. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

    I thought I had a one that got away. Then I talked to him a few years ago and realized it would never work.

    Liked by 1 person

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