No, no, that life is ended now.
This is a new one.

It ended as all lives seem to-
Suddenly, for no good reason, and without any real closure,
But it has ended.
It must be over, you must be over
Or I will be unable to go on.
So I am laying that life to rest,
The life of depending on you and letting your presence make me happy.
And if you resurrect it someday,
Clear the dirt out of my eyelashes and help me climb back up,
Then I will rejoice when the light kisses my face.
For now
It must be done with.
I want to continue.
I have no time to wait, no time to pause who I am and spend my nights wishing you'd come back.
I wish I did.
Oh, darling, I wish I could devote my life to you the way I crave to.
But you are gone,
And that life must be done with,
Tidy in my head so that I can't trip over it or cut my fingertips on its sharp edges.
If you are not here, you must be gone.
I can't spend much time in the in between if I want to survive.
I am sorry, love.
I am sorry.
This life I am entombing again, it will always be waiting for you, always willing to rise again and be tired
For the sake of loving you.
It waits.
Any time you like, it'll be there.
It waits. But I can't right now.