You’re still here.
In my thoughts.
In my days.
In my nights.
In my heart.
As I brushed my teeth
Taking care not to miss that spot in the back
That’s hard to reach
I thought of you.
“Is he lonely?
Is he tired?
Does he have a lover?
I know he has a friend,
But does he sleep alone,
Or is there someone to warm his bed with natural warmth,
And his body
with their embrace,
Is he lonely…?
I do not want him to be lonely.”
I spoke to you
Composing a letter in my imagination
Telling you about the things I’m learning
My new passions and pursuits,
Avoiding the topics of discomfort
The bruises on my knees from when I stumbled,
And the fact that I left the back door of trust open
And someone broke in and stole from me,
My peace, my quality of life,
Leaving trust shattered in their wake…
I didn’t want you to see the weak spot
So I avoided that subject.
I remembered that you told me to move on.
So I stopped composing the letter.
And brushed my hair.
And gave two dollars to my son
So he could stop for a bagel on his way to church with his father,
And then watched him
From the top of the stairs
As he picked up his key to the house
And stepped out onto the porch.
I felt a type of deja vu
As looked up at me
One last goodbye
Before he closed the door.
And I walked into my room.
With not one,
But two goodbyes
echoing in my mind.