Forget the smell of his clothes,
The lemony dish soap scent
That lingers from
Cooking at his house,
Forget the candlelight and the roses,
The dreams you shared
And the wishes you made.
Move forward to days where the word “you”
Is truly for you,
Not a you plural
But a you singular.
Forget the inside jokes
And stop cringing at the sound of his name.
Revisit the places that resonate with memories
And build new ones
To take their place.
Learn to live and let go
Like old photographs,
Let the dust settle on the frames.
Take time to heal
As slowly as wounded hearts tend to do.