The Stickyness of Honey

The old me would have started drama.
Would have directed attention to the situation
as to make it the "attack" you've made it in your mind.
The younger, less evolved,
more self involved,
version of me would have gathered all our mutual friends for a viewing of your hypocricies. Popped popcorn,
served refreshments,
and really have made you the center of attention.
The young me,
scared of her power,
would have cowered in your presence,
crumbled to her knees begging for the opportunity
to be back in your good graces. But this me,
the one who sees too clearly her future's reflection,
refuses to re-align her position
to anything less then erect and direct.
I no longer hide behind masks or kiss anyone's ass
when in any given sitiuation.
Even one involving a previous infatuation
will not make me faulter in my resolve.
I prayed for a solution,
came to you with arms wide open and you made the choice to not evolve.
Like so many before you,
you got lost,
in the memory of anothers violation,
putting on me a sanction that is undeserved.
Calling me names as if I came at you wild crazy when
Even in my anger I was humble, still showed you respect.
I put my feelings down
but to no names was it directed. Its okay,
i now understand
i can't force you to be a woman, you must choose to be.
You must up yourself to a higher level of existing
before we could ever actually be friends.
Since this is where our journey ends,
i wish you a safe and swift path of peace and enlightenment.
Until we meet again.