My Dear Ago

My Dear Ago

by guest blogger 

 

Time has stripped those most precious years away from me, each one a blatant act of petty theft

Faded memories and worn out stories are sadly, but wholly, much of what I have left.

One tale in particular, it strikes me right quick. A riddled love story I still aim to solve –

A marriage to a man. Shall we call him Ago? Ago the enigma, I’d say. My epiphanies evolve

This affair, it caused me great woe and torment, yet I had a special love for Ago. I suppose I still do

We danced through life together, a stunning dance. I wish now to share that dance with you

 

We met at an early age – too young to care really. I wouldn’t dare say love at first sight

I didn’t think much of him at the time, what ignorance! This ignorance would end up our plight

Innocent though it was we grew aware – a deepening feeling. How deep? Well that’s murky

We noticed each other, splashing moments. But where ripples met remained a mystery that irked me

Oh Ago, I must disclaim it was strange at times. I’d catch him in my thoughts unbeknownst his aim…

Were my best interests in his mind? We danced. I presume this muse is why some call love a game

 

Our younger years together; ‘twas a passionate but tumultuous tango that entailed us

You see, rarely did we see eye to eye. But I was brazen and he, timid. Hence I’d frequently prevail

Many nights I cherished with Ago, we’d lie in bed and take comfort in the company

Venting our daily trepidations; and they’d melt away and we’d drift away into a nightly harmony

My dear Ago, Oh how it was so! At times together we’d be the life of the party! We could do no wrong

But other moments soiled. Shots of anger fired between us, where blame ran high and scorn ran long

 

Ago and I grew older. But steadier. The conclusion we were meant together became clear

When the foggy veil draped over our love dissolved, a heavy comprehension began to appear

Mind you, I forewarned you of this riddled love. How exactly this flowering took place is hard to tell

Change is viewed best in the Past, Ago and I didn’t notice. We were cast under Present’s spell

My life, my friends would come and go. Affairs, oh I had plenty! Ago would scold me so, I’d cry

I digress, ignorance drove a wedge between us. My ignorance. Yet Ago, he took my mistakes in stride

 

It is here I leave you, withered and worn. These memories of my strongest love haunt me most

Alas! Regrets flood me. We could have been more! I took for granted Ago, now I pay with morose

An old friend now he remains, seldom we converse. Mostly recollecting golden memories shared

Old friends and flames have long since been doused, a sliver of me vanquished with each flare

Still Ago, my dear sweet Ago, he silently flickers. My friend! My enemy! My Love! Can you now see?

I recite to you my dance with Ago, Ago the enigma. I shall tell you his true name, why, it’s Me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Nineteen Year Old Self

Dear nineteen year old self,

Remember how you used to wonder why all the girls your age liked the older guys? And how you couldn’t understand why the older guys were able to walk away from the ‘hotties’ like they meant nothing to them? Guess what – We finally figured it out!

The answer is, as you get older, life happens, and you actually have to do shit. So, you no longer pretend like you have shit to do, but you actually really do have shit to do! As far as maturity goes, I wouldn’t worry too much about that, just try to pretend like your mature. Maturity doesn’t actually happen to guys, they just learn how to trick people better.

And when girls talk about how they really like dreamers and whimsical guys? Yeah, I would pretty much ignore that. Just try to complement them a lot and listen when you talk. They really don’t care about your biceps half as much as you think. In fact, as you get older, you will start to learn that nobody really gives a shit about you! For this reason, you should probably take your work a little more seriously, and that girl who takes really long to text you back a little less.

Sincerely yours,

Your older self.