Limbo

There was a car like yours parked outside my house and for a moment I thought you’d come to see me.

I didn’t expect to feel fear. Trepidation, perhaps, but I’ve never been afraid of you.

Even after everything, you still hold a piece of me, and I of you.

I tell myself that it’s time to let go, that over a year has passed but I can’t.

I do not want to. We are jealous creatures. We do not want to part with what we have.

So, why do I feel this fear? Is it the fragility of my heart in these past months? Because I feel like my world is crumbling down again.

Am I latching onto what once gave me comfort or am I afraid that opening that door again means opening myself up to disappointment?

I am making new memories and still, the thought of you holds me back.

These chains have loosened but they are still very much there. How long until they cinch tight, and I forget how to breathe?

I keep pointing to how opposed we were in our choices, as if that could justify your betrayal.

As if it could stop me from loving you.

We are casualties caught in the crossfire but at least I’ve managed to plug my wounds and claw myself out of that hell.

But plugged wounds cannot heal. A bird cannot fly with a broken wing.

It’s true what they say about your first heartbreak.

No matter how far you’ve come, you’ll never be free of what you could have had.

One day I will be brave enough to peel back the gauze and face what is etched into my skin

And accept that the person I loved is no more than a memory.