It took me a year
A year in everyday
Everyday immersed in some part of you
That brought up some pain in me.
I visited each moment of my memory
Stuck in time on some visual
Like your smile when you were happy
Your tears of laughter when you left yourself open and unedited,
Stuck in time on some sound
The sound of my cry when I lost you
When I came down to reality,
When it hit me that the emojis of flowers on my phone
Would be the last ones that I would receive.
It took me a year
To retrace my steps
Of what I did wrong
Of what I should have done
Of what you did
Of what you didn’t
Of what I thought was true
Of what I realized I had
Of what I knew I lost.
It took me a year
To be okay
with broken dreams
of mistaken hopes
of disillusioned reality
that became still and quiet.
Now the absence of feeling a part of something
Becomes sacred.
Silence becomes normal
and Surrender becomes the essence of my soul.
It took me a year to finally let you go.
Underneath that, I don’t let you go.
I hope to hear from you again,
I hope that you secretly wish to talk with me and cry.
I hope that your mundane modernity
becomes the sacred feeling of presence
bringing to the moment your love for me again.
But I hear nothing…
Not the wind…
Nor my breath –
that I’ve held for a year –
Not wanting to fully cry
from missing what was familiar
even if it didn’t always feel like love.
My memory is now sacred
I wish I could go back in time
knowing that every experience I had with you
would never be repeated.
Every episode would have been sacred.
I would have recorded your voice in my head
and the times that your love felt real.
I would have taken a photo of your tears
when they ran down your face
before I got on the plane
showing you’d miss me.
I miss you and there’s nothing I can do about it
except create the sacred out of my memories.
