Poleaxed

Your picture. I had to look twice. I didn't realize i had forgotten how you looked. How everything about you was like. It was disconcerting to remember. It was a slow cold feeling felt only when it reached my hands. I curled them in self-preservation. Did i need this? I am a glutton for punishment. I find what does not need to be found. It hit me then that maybe I AM stuck. In the places and time where i've managed to leave pieces of my heart. I saw you, with the wind against your back, your arm holding love, and the words that you said ringing in my head, sounding like echoes bouncing on walls where words are muddled, jumbled, confusing, ringing, annoying, and slowly slowly making me shut them out. You looked happy. Well, pictures are never reliable truths. But I'd like to think you're happy. Because then it would not seem so bad that I left. It would not seem so wrong. And i would stop feeling the loss.