And each day you reminded me how we are made from stardust.
How our atoms have been to more galaxies than there are seconds in a day.
And now whenever I think of you,
I dream of all the worlds I’ve been to where you didn't exist.
Where my atoms never met yours.
And when I think of this,
I remind myself — in the way a heart beats; strong and steady —
that a part of me survived.
A part of me survived without you.
I survived without you.
I survived without knowing the way your eyes water in the sunlight,
I survived without knowing the way my rose perfume smells on your wrists,
I survived without knowing the sound of your voice,
the taste of your lips,
the feel of your hands when they're tangled in my hair…
Sigh. I survived without you in my life, in my world.
Now, I continue to remind myself that if the atoms that make up my body spent thousands of years without yours;
I could do the same.
I could live without you.