“Do not seek the because – in love there is no because, no reason, no explanation, no solutions.” ~ Anaïs Nin

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The hardest part is seeing that look in your eye for her that you once had for me.

And knowing that she will make you tea in the morning like I did; or maybe you’ll make her tea and snuggle until the house warms up?

I’ve been slowly letting bits of you go, but have kept my favorite photos because you are just so beautiful in them, and because I’m sure I don’t want to trash those sweet moments between us.

I think about your porch and morning bird calls in your garden, the walks around your neighborhood admiring people’s gardens.

Even the grocers became a fond memory—the way I wanted the most expensive cheese, while you hunted for ginger snaps and chocolate.

So many things imprinted on my heart, and really, it is the memories of the little events that still warm and haunt me—french fries at the farm market, deciding what’s for dinner, talks of tiny homes, and living off-grid. I believe in the little things.

Even though we were a flash, my whole heart felt you.

What’s worst, though, is that you are truly slipping away.

Some days, I can’t remember how your hand felt in mine.

Some days, I forget the exact nuance of your lips and the way you felt lying beside me.

Maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be? We forget so that we can move on and be whole within ourselves. How can cruelty and kindness be so intimately related?

Most days you feel like a mirage in the desert, something I can almost reach and yet know that that’s the illusion of a broken heart.

This heart broke in a million pieces. Of course, I have knitted it back together with tiny stitches made by a wavering hand.

I just left that one little thread dangling in case I sadistically wanted to rip it all apart again.

Because there you’d be, among the rubble, and I could experience you once more—to remember.

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