When a love so great ends, it puts everything in a maelstrom. You learn to endure how it is to be alone. From the moment you wake up in the morning until you cry yourself to sleep at night. You deviate from all things that the two of you used to do together. Force yourself to stop reaching for the phone just to hear her voice. You reflect on what went wrong, you go through hatred, anguish, longing, sadness, hope, doubt, realization, and a certain sense of pride. The same pride needed to pick up from where you left off the last time you were bawling and scratching your eyes off. You dust off remnants of all the used to be's and you try with so much courage and dignity to take a step forward, willing your entire being to never look back.
Yet, somehow you do look back. You know you shouldn't but you do wonder. Maybe a peek wouldn't hurt. You have, after all moved-on right?
So you stand tall, put on a smile, whisper a reminder that you are fine and you look...
The love that was so great - is still great.
Changed, bruised, and battle-scarred, but still beautiful.
You long to reach out, cry, and apologize
but you choose only to see and smile
knowing full well that the love that was
will always be great and will always be there.