But Sometimes I’m Not

Each afternoon, I still gaze towards your departed building as I drive through the neighborhood following a long day of work.
I gasp at the abandoned third-floor balcony where two sun-stained deck chairs and an array of ornamental plants once displayed.
I look at the vacated space where your white Honda Accord used to sit each morning, hovering over its designated parking line.
The sound of your car’s squeaky brakes halting to a stop is forever etched in my brain.
 
I know I should be past the point of caring, but I still care.
I know I should be past the point of wanting, but I still want.

I still weave through the paths of these densely shaded woods to the one narrow and tangled, unbeaten by the footprints of others.
I occasionally pause by the grave marking where we buried our dog, the longest and most challenging day of our shared lives.
I still read the epitaph we carved on the makeshift piece of plywood, and my tears begin to flow in a steady stream.
I look for you too, still expecting you to be within an arm’s length, only you are not there.

You left without saying goodbye. Without saying goodbye, you just left.

Sometimes I think I’m doing better…
Only to hear one of your favorite Lauren Daigle songs invade my car radio, flooding my mind with forgotten memories.
Sometimes I think I’m doing better…
Only to inhale the familiar scent of your snowflakes and cashmere diamond shimmer mist, the combination nearly knocking me to my knees. 
Sometimes I think I’m doing better…
Only to treat myself to a slice of peach cobbler at our local cafe, falsely believing a recollection of our favorite treat won’t overwhelm me.
Sometimes I think I’m doing better…
Only to find a jet-black lace slip pinned behind my headboard, my imagination drifting somberly as the clothing dangles from my fingers.
Sometimes I think I’m doing better…
Only for an ‘On This Day’ keepsake photo to pop up on my phone, offering an additional, unwanted reminder of what I once had.

You left without saying goodbye. Without saying goodbye, you just left

I still pass the community bike rack, seeing the slot next to mine, a spot once held by you, now unoccupied.
I sporadically catch a glimpse of someone who looks like you, my heart skipping a beat before reality quickly sets in.
I harmfully allow myself to recall midnight conversations when we shared our dreams and our desires, our faults and our fears.
I become immersed in unhealthy patterns, ideas roaming throughout my head that keep my life from advancing.

I know I should be past the point of caring, but I still care.
I know I should be past the point of wanting, but I still want.

With the progress gained to move forward from this profound pain now lost, I’m forced to reset and start again from the beginning.
Unconsciously, I slither down this well-known wormhole, my restless thoughts quickly reemerging and overtaking me.
Unsuccessfully, I scan my slew of self-help notes, frantically looking for anything that will stop this impending avalanche.
Futilely, I toss indexed binders of coping skills to the side and surrender to this uninvited beast lingering above.