One day you will fall in love without me. I wonder where I will be when you do. Will I be busy trying to build a nest inside the cavern of someone else’s ribs or will I be pacing the same square of carpet counting how many times I could have walked to you by now?
One day I will fall in love without you. I wonder where you will be when I do. Will you be tracing the naked curve of some other woman who is nothing like me or will you be worrying the shredded place in your heart where once upon a time I tried to sew myself into you?
One day we will fall in love without each other.
Only, when it is late, when the dark comes and makes it so quiet that I can hear your name under my pulse, I’ll still think of you. I will sit here, in love with someone else, wondering if it’s my face that pops into your head when you hear my name in a crowd. I’ll wonder if maybe I’ll ever see you again—wonder if you ever think about me, too.
And—no matter where I am or who I love—I’ll hope (with all of my heart) that you do.