YOUNG ADULT Poem: Refuge, by Yuchien Wang

I find refuge in an aloof type of love.
It’s finite, like everything that I have ever learned to love in my life.
One day my parents will orphan me,
and the day will linger on,
like me dragging out a vowel
when saying a name
to make the moment longer
never fading
everlasting.

I find safety in an aloof type of love.
Permission to flake when the ship starts to sink.
No guilt. No strings.
Just a surface level exchange
a nod
a stroke
brush by our lips
and then we part ways when the wax hardens
when no one can pretend any longer any of this is normal
to be with one another
without ever getting to know each other.

But then I think of what we could’ve had.
Don’t you want to experience Strasbourg with me?
Do you see the hills out from Hecksher and think
of how much I would’ve loved it?
How much I would’ve loved being there with you for it?
Or the slightest bit that you might want to be there with me
for just one ordinary afternoon.
Rainy or sunny.
Bright or dimmed.

When I visited New Zealand, I thought of an aloof type of love
like a ghost
that follows me
I needed the ghost’s company
more than the ghost would care to haunt me
to make sure my memories are alive
to make sure what we had is real
was it ever real?
Bloody rugby, green trails, and flat white
I wish you were here to rejoice them with me
but we never get to experience that
Just when we scratched the surface
you backed out.
That was enough for you
to know you don’t want
any of it.

Then comes VICE,
a summer in Marina Del Rey
A sunny beach town
yet everything was gray.

I don’t see dolphins in the oceans,
I see an ocean without you.

I don’t see a start to my career,
I see a future without you.

I don’t get to live, really.
Because I kept thinking about how you were missing out
on this part of my life.
On the parties.
On the phony producers.
On the people pleading positivity.
On all the gluten-free meals and fake spiritual gurus,
that claimed to love everyone but only ever loved fame.
You would’ve scoffed at them with me.
So, why were you not?
I seem to forget that you’ve always had the choice
To reconcile,
to rekindle,
But you chose not to.

Life is a choice.
We embrace options
both the road less traveled and worn down paths.
Until
I’m not chosen
Until
I’m forgotten.
Then I protest
in silence
with this poem
that will never meet your eye.

Then I learned more about everything irrelevant
as I grow
How to throw a volleyball
Or to buy stocks and invest in crypto.
I even picked up free diving
tumbled in shallow water
held my breath in the deep end.
And finally learned one thing relevant,
that no one has ever loved me,
Nor have I ever loved anyone.

If I ever want to experience a love
that’s not aloof
I will have to sacrifice
parts of my world
in exchange with parts of someone’s world
even though
it might once again
turn into an aloof kind of
love.