It no longer hurts to think
about you - about our lives
becoming disentangled

I used to think you were
"The One," with whom I would
grow old, start a family

I didn't know myself, then -
didn't know how I react
to pain, to hardship

I had suffered before, more
than some see in their whole
lives, and yet

less than others see in a
minute of tear-stricken grief
or in their last moments

I had suffered before, yes
but I never knew how I
handled it, never saw

how I pushed people away,
insisting it was this or
that, but never me

Now I see myself, not perfectly
but well enough to know
why we ended that way

It no longer hurts to think
about you, but sometimes I
wonder what you're doing