For My Childhood Love

The tears came in torrents
as I held him to me.
The pain of years of mistreatment
soaked my shoulder.
I held him and whispered words
of apology for hurts I had not inflicted.
His tear streaked face appeared as his story
was to be told by another hurt one.
His story.
Their story.
Our story.
I ran to comfort him.
To comfort us.
The heart of my childhood.
The heart of my youth.
We sat as a child looked on
with wondering eyes.
One in tears
One rocking, soothing.
The tears came in torrents
as I held him to me.
The pain of years of mistreatment
soaked my shoulder.
To the love of my childhood
I came for understanding.
The loss of his friendship
the first pain of my heart.
I winked reassurance to
the love of his adult self.
His voice choked on the words
that would tell his story,
their story,
my story,
our story.
Then he appeared.
Not a word spoken.
Each falling tear telling
the story for which words
were too painful a tool to use.
The tears came in torrents
as I held him to me.
The pain of years of mistreatment
soaked my shoulder.
I held him and whispered words
of apology for hurts I had not inflicted.

Then I awoke.