My partner is fun,
I’m sure he’s “the one”,
His body’s a work of art!
He thinks like I do,
And loves me so true,
And I love him with all of my heart.
My partner says he
Has PTSD,
And needs to be just on his own.
“It’s just a bad day,”
I hear him say,
“We always can talk on the phone.”
The close times we spend
Being “more than a friend”
Are few and far between.
My partner needs time
To get over the crime
Of abuse he endured as a teen.
The bad days won’t last,
They come from his past;
He’s getting some help for his pain.
I give him support
And write a report,
To help win his Right to Remain.
The lockdown has hit,
My partner feels ****,
And won’t let me visit at all.
I stay home alone,
And support him by phone,
But he often won’t answer my call.
My partner is sick,
He sends me a pic –
In his darkness he’s done himself harm.
I call 999,
But he tells them he’s fine –
He says there’s no cause for alarm.
I worry so much,
And long for his touch,
As months pass me by I just pray.
My friends wonder why
I stand by my guy,
But I know him better than they.
Time has moved on,
The lockdown has gone,
My partner’s now feeling quite well!
At last we can meet
Not just in the street;
He’s coming back out of his shell!
Before long I learn
My partner will earn
A wage as a carer in York.
But why go so far?
It seems so bizarre
To move far away for such work.
As I help him to pack,
He says he’ll be back
As soon as he finds a job here.
But something is wrong –
It’s taking too long,
And again I’m missing my dear.
To my deepest dismay,
My partner’s away,
Our contact is fading once more.
I call him and plea,
But he breaks up with me,
And says to me, “You deserve more.”
How much was a lie?
Is he even bi?
The red flags were all there to see!
With hindsight I’m wise,
And now realise:
The one who needs counselling’s me.
My mind filled with doubt,
I may never work out
The truth and the lies and the cause.
Two years since we met,
It’s time to forget
My partner who never was.