All emotions aside, I just don’t know if it’ll be for me again.
I had love. I lost love. I’m still full of love with no place to put it.
So it escapes and evaporates through my tear ducts.
And I smile every time because as much as it hurts, I’m so grateful that I had it at all.
They were the happiest moments of my life. I still feel that joy each time.
He changed me. I’m not who I used to be.
I would still do anything to be able to know him.
But I don’t want to know him anymore.
I can barely survive the memories I have.
Another one would surely kill me.
18 months. 13 months. 11 months. 9 months. 6 months. 2 months. You take your pick.
Every moment feels like yesterday.
Every moment feels like a fable.
But my body reminds me it was real
Because all of those moments I can still feel
The way his arms felt under my fingertips
How the slight toughness of his thumb felt intertwined in my hand.
I couldn’t deny its realness if I tried.
And that’s why I’m okay if it’s not for me again.
Because I don’t want it if it isn’t him.
And I also don’t want it if it is him.
Riddle me that.
I don’t understand it and I’ve stopped trying to.
Would I do it all over again for it to end the same?
If I said yes, that would be too dismissive of my pain.
Would I do it all over again if I could do it better?
I’m trying not to answer questions that aren’t even real, so I guess we’ll never know that answer.
Fantasy is for football and dragons.
That’s my new rule.
Oasis Poetry 