I Don't Think

I don’t think I’ve ever known what it means to love.

I can’t say I’ve ever treated someone as good as I wanted

To be treated.

I expect much, I give little.

I get upset because I know that I’m not loved much,

But I’m reaping what I’ve sown.

Indifference.

Aloofness.

The minimum.

I could have been more thoughtful, and habituated kindness

Instead of selfishness.

All I have is my own solitude and regret.

And a legacy of things left as an example by someone who cared

Enough to listen to me and buy something that she thought I might

Enjoy.

I called it her shopping addiction, she was always buying stuff.

But it was mostly stuff to make my life easier, or some little thing

She tucked away from a conversation in which I said “I wish I had…”

I gave her little for birthdays and Christmas because she was

“Hard to shop for” I would say. Only because she had already bought

What she wanted and more.

I just never got the jump on her and took initiative.

As much as it would have meant to have one birthday or Christmas

That wasn’t a disappointment.

Not that it was, because she was so used to it that she never expected much.

And she wasn’t disappointed in that regard.

But she must have had some longing hope for a come from behind finish

From me.

A big scrooge moment of redemption, which never came.