For Love is as Strong as Death.

I miss him.
Yeah, I miss him.

I miss the way his body fit, 
so perfectly 
with mine.

I miss the way he used to 
hold me.

Yeah,
I miss him.

I miss him.

(And only I 
will ever know who
'Him' was 
and is.)

And only I
will ever know, 
truly know,
the love he gave me and
the intensity of the pain
he caused me;

of which we caused each other.

Only I will ever know,
in my own way - 
the true meaning of 'torn;'
of heartache, and of
the seriousness 
and of the 
consequences, our choices
created for us.

It was a 'catch 22;'
we couldn't live with each other,
but we couldn't face
the reality
of being without each other,
either.

I did the right thing,
in my own way,
by leaving.

But that doesn't stop
or change the fact that,
I miss him,
sometimes.

Yeah, 
sometimes, 
I miss him.

And that's ok.

*

I don't think we ever forget anyone
we have loved, and
I think that somehow 
and somewhere deep inside us,
that love still
lingers on, - 
in its own way -
and that's why it comes back,

sometimes,
to haunt us.

But we move on,
and we love again.


''For love,
is as strong as death.''


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