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.
Aug 16, 2025
Aug 16, 2025 at 5:02 PM UTC
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.
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