9/23/2020- Dear Friend, Sorry. — Summary

I tired to love her, Even if it just had to be in the dark. She may have said no, But that girl is still a work of art. She lost her religion, And her parents too. I'll still be there for her, And I could never say Her affection is overdue.

He tries to love me And I can't say no. I know what it feels like, Alone in the cold. He deserves better, And I don't think I love him like that, But karma might hit me back.

I'll give him hugs, Dances, And plenty of second chances. If I can't love him like that, I'll never ever leave him alone. He can hold my hand, But he has to understand, I don't think I can be his.

I owe my life to him. He let me see another day. His strange affections Just about take my breath away. We can go adventuring Any time you want And I won't even try to act nonchalant.

He says he thinks about me every day. That making me laugh makes him happy. The problem is, I'm gay, But I want to stay in his life. I just could never be his wife.

Dear friend, I really love you, Just platonically. I'd kill for you, Die for you, And I've lived for you. Thanks to you, My life didn't end.

Thank you for all you've done, I just am not the one.

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Sam Glaspy's poem reads like a letter to a close friend whose feelings run deeper than the speaker can return. The speaker is gay, and says so plainly, which is the "problem" at the heart of the poem. Even so, they don't want to lose him. They offer hugs, dances, adventures and "second chances," and they promise never to leave him alone.

The poem opens with a different voice, one trying to love a girl "in the dark," but it soon turns to the friend. The speaker feels guilty and worries that "karma might hit me back." They also feel enormous gratitude. The lines "I owe my life to him" and "my life didn't end" suggest he helped them through a very dark time, though the poem doesn't spell out how.

The mood is tender and a little sad, with warmth and regret side by side. The short, plain final couplet, "Thank you for all you've done, / I just am not the one," ends the poem as a gentle, honest apology.

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