A look at the poems in YOU AGAIN—where they came from, what inspired them, and what they mean to me now. This is Afterwords.
“Stay” is one of the unflinchingly honest pieces in my collection. At first, I hesitated to include it because I was afraid people would misunderstand. However, the honesty of it and the belief that I was not alone in feeling this way about someone was why it made the cut. I think relationships of all kinds can be messy, complicated, and nuanced—and this was one of those for me.
Stay
“Stay” is one of the kindest words anyone could ever say to me. Stay for just a bit longer. Stay with me. Please stay—don’t leave. I’d love it if you would stay. Could you please stay with me?
He said this to me with dark, glassy eyes. He grabbed my sweater sleeve and tugged. Full up with whiskey, he looked so hurt and lonely. How could I say no to that? I looked into his teary eyes, like murky pools at midnight, and worried that I might never hear those words or see his eyes that way again.
Sometimes, selfishly, I hope he will stay sad for me.
Megan Portorreal
This friend only ever reached out to me when he was sad, lonely, or going through something—rarely when he was happy. I was his reliable shoulder to cry on, the person he could empty his feelings into, and then feel better afterward. However, when things were going well in his life, he would take longer to respond, and I would see him less. As though I were his therapist, he would often enlist me when he needed to vent, and rarely otherwise. And so, as bad as it sounds, I always hoped things would go south for him again if it meant getting to speak to and spend time with him because, however inconveniently, I did like him and his company.
Why did he only ever come around when he was sad? I don’t know. I’m sure it had to do with the fact that I was a good listener, and he felt comfortable opening up to me. Maybe he felt embarrassed by his vulnerability and then felt the need to disappear after. Or perhaps he, like many of us, had people he wanted to be happy with, and people he felt comfortable being sad with. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you find someone who can be both.
I, however, was definitely the latter. And for a while, it was an honor. But soon I would realize I couldn’t live with just his clouds. I wanted his sunshine, too.
See you back here soon for the next poem.
Want To See A Particular Poem Covered In This Series?
If you have a poem from YOU AGAIN you’d like me to write about, please email me at hello@meganportorreal.com. You may also DM me on Threads or Instagram, or leave a comment below.
