Pocket Corners

Funny how I used to do that--look for you. I used to scan seas of faces wherever I went, my heart choking me whenever I caught a glimpse in the corner of my eyes, thinking it must be you, and then realizing that all I saw was a resemblance. I used to take deep breaths and lulled myself with the disappointment, reminding myself that I should no longer be looking in the first place, that I would not even know what to expect from you should we be face to face again. I used to ride this fear of seeing you and yet not finding you anymore--of knowing for certain that what I kept hoping for was no longer there. Then you took that final step away from me, and all I remember was that I somehow died that December. I stopped looking for you. I stopped hoping. And the little pocket corners of my world stopped holding you in them.