i cry for the day when i see him again. when years have passed and babies have grown. when trees have fallen and our songs have long been unsung. when memories are fading and numbness consumes us. i cry because i know time will not preserve us. and in that moment, every thread of myself will come undone. all the work i've put into forgetting him will disappear from my mind. i cry because i know i'll see him- his soft blue eyes, dimples, dark curly hair, broad shoulders, imperfect teeth, boundless smile, deep smile creases- and i'll fall in love with him all over again.
i cry for when he does not love me back, again. when he'll turn towards his beautiful girl, a tiny blonde with a brilliant smile, and love her like you read about. the kind of love poets and artists alike have been feeding off of, manipulating into art, for centuries.
and i'll cry for years, decades, wasting away as the salt water erodes me.
because when you're really in love, you can never get out.