Saudade

There’s a word in Portuguese, 

Maybe just Brazilian Portuguese…

I’m not clear. 

But I learned it last night from a man bouncing people from the Dubliner, 

An ironically named drinking hole, 

also far from its roots. 

He was 

1/3 urban cowboy,

1/3 Rastafarian,

1/3 the Sheriff yet to be shot. 

This is the word: 

Saudade

It was described as never being able 

to come home, that things will never be 

the same. 

But when I looked it up, 

Because hearsay manipulates language, 

I read something different. What it is: 

Constant longing.

As if something’s missing from what you once had or

Believe you had. 

And I thought, “FML!” as the kids type…

(no one says much of anything anymore IRL) 

What if that’s it?

What if what I left, I’d never regained 

What if: that WAS IT.

What if I once had it, whatever it was and

I can’t stop feeling its loss even if it actually

Wasn’t what I thought it was. 

Because 

When I saw you, whoa

The saudade: Faded 

No more 

what if what if what if, 

The most tolerable 5 minutes or so 

in more years than I can (will) count.

And so I accept  

That Saudade is a gift  

Because as it turns out it is more 

than one thing. 

It’s more than melancholic nostalgia, 

Less than misplaced neurosis, 

Which is why there’s no direct translation in our romance avoidant language: 

Saudade

Like us, how we were and will never be again.

…Maybe…

Because:

Of whom we are now.