I stopped looking for you in my sheets and dreams and finally found rest.
I stopped looking for you in coffee shops and lost myself in the simple joy of solitude and tea.
I stopped searching for your car as I drove around town because I'm too busy singing over the radio with the windows down.
I stopped telling stories about us because I'm busy creating new ones.
I stopped the salt water trails awhile ago with the dimples in my cheeks when I realized that there is still a lot to smile about.
I stopped hoping this wasn't actually the end because it was actually just the beginning.
I've also got to stop writing about you, because your page in my book is full and if I keep writing about you, I'm just scribbling over old entires.
It's time I stop rereading the chapter of you.