Hindsight

How could I love so long, yet long to love?
If such a paradox could truly be,
Such question raised, it would perhaps behoove
Us both to view the past with clarity.
Now that denial's turbid haze has flown,
I see I touched you with the desperate hand
Of one whose need was wildly overgrown,
And held you in a girl's possessive bond.
A sort of love it was, but not of truth;
And woman's better sense acknowledged this,
Not with resentment or regret for youth,
But new resolve to search for what was missed.
I loved you long, but longing sharpened sight;
By letting go, we both have won the fight.

© Leticia Austria 2008