How does one free themselves of Aphrodite’s sly paradox of still loving the one who broke their heart ?

Love that preserves beyond the break
is a measure
of the authentic tether
felt by the depths of the heart.

Every conscious step I make
towards a new future, beyond the girl who
felt like a soulmate,
feels like the break
of a promise.

Pinky swear was the old charming mantra.

I move ahead.
Yet I still have to tread on the familiar grounds we once said
our I love yous.

Memory lane.

Sometimes I choose the painful path,
looking through pictures before Loves pain,
a consolation of sorts
to know it was real
and not that of a dream.

Romeo’s lips uttered dreams are nothing but vain fantasy,
but at least I have the memory.

The ghost of you follows me,
uninvited into my reverie
so vividly
no matter how hard I try to release the heartache of you and me.

I’ll keep trying,
until one day it becomes a fond reminiscent memory of what once was and no longer,
trudging through the graveyard
until the light brings fonder
and my heart may wander anew.