I.
I watch them go without me,
their laughter fading
somewhere I cannot follow.
Another evening becomes a memory
before I have even lived it.
II.
And when I cannot come,
I imagine the empty space
where I should have been –
the joke I didn\'t hear,
the picture I wasn\'t in.
III.
“You can do it with us again sometime,”
you tell me,
and I want to believe you.
But it still hurts
because I wanted that time.
IV.
Because “again”
is never quite the same.
The same movie,
the same place,
the same people –
but not the same moment.
V.
And eventually,
you forget you promised.
I don\'t remind you.
I just watch another moment pass,
quietly afraid
of how many more I\'ll miss.