I suppose it had to come to this.
We do this awkward cyber dance,
sending the occasional email or
text, digital Im-thinking-of-you’s,
when all we really want is to hear
each other’s laugh, touch each
other’s skin, and kiss each other’s
lips like it was yesterday,
like you meant forever
and not a goodbye.



There is nothing romantic about a love that used to be, a love that happened, and then ended, just like everything else in the world. People often romanticize tragedy, like the kiss that almost was, the “maybe” that could have been but will remain a “what if” forever. There is nothing beautiful about something that once was, but died. Disappeared. Ended. Failed.