I came home and the full teacups were on the table.
You had told me they would be but nevertheless they pulled big fat tears from my eyes.
What if, what if, what if?
Tea not drunk.
Hugs not shared.
I love yous not said.
When in fact I love you both so much
I’m not sure I can say or show it.
Tempting to revert to habit
And admit that when feelings are that big
Maybe it’s best not to feel them
To stop the mess and pain and confusion and fear from seeping in.
Except that of course the love and joy and beauty stay out too.
And this time we drank tea again.
3 versions, of course.
Normal, normal milk.
Decaf, normal milk.
Normal, soya milk.
And for this, I give thanks.
For you and me and all that is me that is you.
The empty cups win this time.