Nothing, All, Nothing Left, Regrets: You Hold All The Cards, But There Will Be A Correction, A Reckoning As I Am Beginning Not To Care Poem by Dennis Ryan

Thursday morning, August 17, 2023, begun at 9: 34 a.m. and finished at 9: 43 a.m.; continued Friday morning, August 18, 2023, begun at 9: 07 a.m. and concluded at 9: 20 a.m.; Saturday morning, August 26, 2023, begun at 7: 50 a.m. and finished at 8: 09 a.m.

—this poem is dedicated to Sarah in the hope that we can work out our differences and remain friends. What follows is the present state of the "friendship" as I see it.

" I'm an ocean holding all your salt…
I'm only getting half of you; I'm only giving half of me …"
—Biz Colletti, "Half Of You", You Tube Music Video

"Yeah, you just want my attention,
I knew it from the start…"
—Charlie Puth, "Attention", You Tube Music Video

Nothing—getting (nearly) nothing from you.
No answers, responses, no return while I'm
constantly giving, and nearly giving all. What's
the matter, the meaning? You know the meaning—
it's direct—but it doesn't appear to matter to you
unless you tell me otherwise; you just want attention;
talk back, tell me I matter, talk back to me, answer,
respond, answer the phone when I call. Any time,
all the time, whenever: "Itsu demo doozo". I sense
there's nothing—if there ever was, over there where
you are. Nothing left. Just my regrets. Single, solitary
regret. I really don't know where or how to go on from
here, or if it matters—things are undecided, happen
moment to moment. You just seem to want my attention; nothing more, and I don't know how to respond to that,
deal with that—it happened with someone else, Karen,
for years, before. You hold all the cards, at least for the moment, but there will come a correction, a reckoning,
a new start, and where will I, you be then—I don't know.
And this Saturday morning in late August I am beginning
not to care, not to, much more aware of your behavior.