Moving...on.

 I can go days without thinking about you now.
You were like a lamp, in a painting of a living room,
an expected thought, a fixture.
You were every second. Now you're a surprise.

After a few days when you pop in, it's not the
actual thought surprising me, but the fact that it's
been days since the last one.
Are you finally becoming a faded memory? Will I
one day have to puzzle at what your name was?
Should I fight to keep you alive or should I fight to
live the life in front of me.  And even that is a question, 

was the future meant without you?

So when your face, your voice, your touch visits
my wondering mind, I can't tell why anymore.
Confused whether to feel glad that you are no longer
the backsplash of my days, or wonder if the growing
distance is a warning, like fading ping when you're
going in the wrong direction. I don't know but I do
know these thoughts are not steps my actual feet
are making. Every sure footing without you is
proof of something, something that no longer
needs you, whether it be good or bad. 

I can't rewrite the past and I don't have a crystal ball
showing me what's next. But what I can do is look
at my standing feet and dare to take another
step, and another , and see that I am still here, 

breathing and still me. Will I ever forget you, I don't know. 

Your memory exists like a passing wind, it didn't change me, 

and I know another will pass again and again. 

Some I won't even notice, some I will. 

But I look at my feet and I look at my
present, here, without you...proof I can move on.
Proof I can rebuild, proof I can be alive again.
Only the heavens know what's next 

and you know what, that's quite ok. 

I stand, I dare.