As we sat at lunch that day
(it seems so long ago now),
I tried to explain the ins
and outs of my breakup,
but burst into tears instead.
You're a boy,
and I forgive you for that;
but just like the typical boy,
you didn't quite know
how to hold
a sobbing female.
Figures.
But you tried anyway,
and I appreciate it.
In one fluid motion,
your arms were about me,
holding me to your chest
while I tried to refill my lungs with air.
Even through the snot and tears,
I could smell your laundry detergent,
and was comforted.
In that moment,
I could feel your heart race.

*But what you'll never know is mine did too.

You.
You weren't the first thing
on my mind
when I woke up this morning.
My eyes fluttered open,
and for the first time,
in a long time,
my thoughts didn't
automatically float to you,
as if on cue.
I fear you're fading from my memory,
one soft kiss at a time.

I gasp for air
that simply isn't
mine to
breathe.

The Beatles were wrong.
Sometimes, love isn't all you need.
With a blind eye, a deaf ear, and unending love,
Maybe we would succeed. . .
But words can't be taken back;
Things can't be left unsaid.
Distance is the silent killer. . .
And as I lie here in my bed
I think of you, and what we had.
I hope you have good dreams
But what is more? I realize that
*I don't regret a thing.

I haven't painted my nails
since we were still
a happy couple.
Now they're chipped,
but i can't bring myself to
remove that blue-green polish
because it feels like the one little piece
of you that i still have.
Maybe once it all flakes off,
i'll be back to the old
me-without-you self.
Not having forgotten you,
just no longer dependent.
Baby, you were my alcohol
and now i'm just another addict
going through my first withdrawal.
I often wish that i could go back
to who i was before you,
but i have to find me first.
Until then, i'll endure the detox.

The most beautiful smile I've ever seen
was accompanied by crinkled eyes,
and a figure so lean
(and don't forget those laugh lines!)
It lit up every room, and brightened any day,
and the eyes above it sparkled with compassion,
Until Death's cold grip snatched her away.

My parents are divorced,
And yes, it's plain to see
That their divorce affected me.

But that's old news.
I know one thing, one thing for sure:
That I am their child, but nothing more.

(Not a product of their misfortune)
If I've not been sentenced their same fate...
Why am I afraid to date?