Lasting Relationships

I learned to watch for the almost-invisible signs:
the coworker who circles back when your shift runs long,
the friendly rival at the gym who spots the bar, not the spotlight,
the familiar voice after service that asks, “How are you?”

and waits for the answer before moving on.

These are dependable openings—
habits disguised as kindness,
risk measured, not rushed,
like respecting a bridge that creaks but holds.

Still, I took chances on the bright entries—
people who arrived with velocity and beautiful speeches,
who called my generosity a gift
and my loyalty “rare.”
It felt mutual at first, a dance with mirrored steps,
but the rhythm bent: I kept giving ground,
kept financing comfort I never shared,
until confidence for them meant quiet depletion for me.

For a long time I thought this one would last.
They spoke of WE while climbing ME.
Every favor I offered became fuel for their ascent,
every kindness another rung on their ladder.

They gave too—but only to keep the engine running,
only as strategy.
When the illusion fell away, it left bruises—
grief, doubt, nights where the mind rehearsed harm.
That ending hurt, but it told the truth.

And here is where the light returns.
In the mirror stands the one who stayed—
steady as bone, learning as breath.
I am my most reliable companion,
capable of better choices, capable of rest.

Self-love is not retreat; it is training,
soil made ready for real connection.

From this place…

When friendship and potential partnership comes again,
there will be a better preparation for the arrival

that hopefully gives more than it takes.