So this is what it has come to be.
In some ways I always knew that you would leave.
I just thought that you would say goodbye.
Instead of simply leaving.
And me,
standing in the doorway,
with a hollowed heart,
watching you,
as you sling your pack,
full of memories,
over your back.
Tell me...
Did it hurt?
Did it sting?
Did your eyes well up until you were wiping back tears,
on the back of your hand?
I will not say
that I am better
for you leaving.
I will not be
the common housewife.
I will walk, on steady porcelain shoes,
of which you bought for my own feet,
to the end of the drive way.
I will wait,
until you reach the end of my sight, and then I will kick off those shoes.
And I will run.
Away from you.
Away from life.
And to the back,
of our little house,
where we spent all of those tired years.
And then I will stop,
when my toes hit the hard cement,
leading up to the cold, still surface of our glaciered pool.
And I will take off the ring that you gave me
when we were only young.
I will jump
-No-
I will walk
into a cold blast of realization,
as my body hits the water.
And I will stay under that surface until I cannot breathe,
until I cannot focus,
until I cannot stay alive any longer.
Because that's what it takes,
to get you out of my mind;
for me to stop loving you.