Affair of the Heart - A poem for Scott

If I told you you were special,
That wouldn't be quite true;
You might as well be anyone,
But I just wanted you.
In an affair like ours, I know
There's no such thing as “we”;
But only you were good enough,
And enough's too good for me.

I dream up meaning that is not,
To numb despair with play;
A dream is all you were, I know,
And all dreams die someday.
A falling star's a fantasy,
A dead wish yet all bright;
I don't know why you were enough,
But it's haunting me tonight.

They'll put me in a home someday,
No grownup kids to care,
Eyes blinded by the years, and heart
Despondent, unaware.
Impatiently I'll wait for death,
Embrace him eagerly;
For only you were good enough,
And enough's too good for me.