For better or for worse

I found your picture today, I was in it with you. And I re-read the letter you wrote once I got home. It was the first time in a long time that I felt so... empty? I'll be honest, I shed a few tears.

Weren't you afraid like I was? Going out and trying to find someone to take my place, someone to go through the same motions with, so they'd know you as well as I?

I'm still scared, I just want my heart back. I want to be able to give my all to someone later on down the road, without having to worry about you coming back around.

If I showed someone that picture today, they'd never guess we held on tight, and maybe not with arms at night. I'd have to tell them there was a connection there, a faulty one, but a connection nonetheless.

I can't remember the structure of your face, or how your voice sounded when you would be angry.

So for me, this is closure. This is me moving on. I'm a little wrinkled from the wash, but I'm alive and well.

Goodbye.