Letting Go of the Idea of Us

The day you left, I confronted my demons.

They were mine, none yours.

The day you left, I shattered.

Fragments of my heart; you walked out with yours, intact.

 

Two weeks gone, and you still haunt me.

I see your face in crowds, and freeze for a moment.

Two weeks gone, and we walk past each other and pretend you’ve never held my hand, or heart.

Your gaze, unblinking. Mine, blurred.

 

Today, I pick myself up.

I leave us behind; the idea I held on to in my dreams, only to wake up alone.

Today, I don’t break when I see your face on the way to the café.

I look right through you.

4 thoughts on “Letting Go of the Idea of Us

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