I barely knew him, but it didn't matter,
the conversation was intense.
It was as if we were communicating
with another sixth? seventh? sense.

Sometimes you can meet someone
and feel you know them well.
There's nothing really that spells it out,
it's just something you can tell.

Tell them fears and hopes and dreams
and things that you have done.
I don't know how it is for you,
but I can't do that with everyone.

I was worried about Chelsea,
and concerned for others too.
For Eloise and Lynda,
for Paul, for me and you.

Things I may tell Chels,
and I may have said to Lyn,
I felt that I could say them
and share them all with him.

I honestly don't know,
but he may have felt it too.
Oh, I don't know!
And I don't know what to do.

With Pat it made more sense,
though there was little logic there.
But no attraction, not with Pat,
and so lesser I did care.

I just do not know him,
and God, it's just not fair!
I'm praying, Lord, for patience,
but I can't help my despair.