What am I,
if I can’t let her go?
If others move on,
find new faces,
new lives,
but I stay here,
chained to a ghost
I don’t want to forget?

Do they love less?
Or do I love too much?
Did I lose myself
in her laugh, her touch,
the way she existed
so effortlessly near me?

I don’t want to move on.
I don’t want a new story.
I’d rather love her
with all the weight of this ache.
for years, for decades,
for the rest of my life.

If that’s wrong,
then what am I?