When you said, Michigan
It was all I could do, not to change my mind.
I mean, Michigan?
Much as I wanted to say, “No, don’t go. I’ve changed my mind.”
I knew it was too late for that
Much too late
I watched you pack your mom’s pickup with what was yours.
Some things that weren’t.
I didn’t care
What I really wanted, was moving to Michigan
I knew, though, as much as I hate to admit it
Moving away was the best thing you could have done
Some months later, your mom came by to pick up the rest of your belongings
I helped with the heavier things
Made small talk in earnest, albeit sparingly
As the pickup rattled away an hour or so later
It was then that it hit me
You were gone.
I missed you.
And even though I hated the things you did
I loved you all the same