I lost you to whisky bottles and sugar-rimmed martini glasses.
I lost you to unfinished home projects – bent screwdrivers and broken bedroom sets.
I lost you to early morning car rides and late night cruises across the bridge.
I lost you to notebooks – chicken scratch life plans and poetry written for someone new.
I lost you to hobbies and dinner dates across town.
I lost you to song lyrics about someone else.
I lost you to locked doors and muted phone calls.
I lost you to pocketed text conversations.
I lost you to everything you said you’d never do.
But little did I know
I’d find myself after losing you.
This will always be the case. When we lose someone in our life it’s because they were meant to get the hell out of the way. Subconsciously all parties know this, but it always has to play itself out. Finding yourself is such a beautiful thing.