That song

That song comes on the radio.
That love song, crooning and sweet.
That saccharine, overdone, unoriginal song.
I begin to change the station
but I remember...
you liked this song.
And since I loved you
I am reminded that much more powerfully.
Not that I loved you
the way the singer loves his
object of affection.
Not romantically,
not lustfully,
I loved you as a friend.
Although
there was that time
when we laid on my bed
talking
and connected so deeply
that I wanted to kiss you.
You might not have minded
but I would have.
This song -
I never liked it.
Most popular about a year ago
and sung by a well known artist.
I never liked him, either,
but you did.
We discussed it once,
you telling me
that you could relate to it,
you knew exactly what he meant.
Me telling you
that it just wasn't my style.
Maybe that's my problem.
I am too wrapped up in style
to feel.
Maybe I should have listened to you
all those times you
inadvertently
tried to help.
I miss you and
I miss your advice.