Sometimes when I’m alone

feeling sorry for myself

Lonely for the company of another,

I think of you.

I look around and see artifacts

gathered around me like ghosts.

I remember how much we laughed.

But I also remember how much I cried.

I feel the warmth of your hand.

I feel a longing for what was; not what is.

I miss you terribly

but not enough to give up the happiness I’ve built.

I refocus on my own company

I think of everything I’ve accomplished since “we”

And yes, I still miss you, but you’ve become

a fond memory of abandoned dreams