I hope you will be happy looking back at all the tears you never had to cry,
at all the pain you never had to feel, and all the love you chose to never share.
I hope it is somehow satisfying knowing that you were never truly hurt
because you were never truly vulnerable — always distant, never close,
never one to start — ever so afraid that having to say Goodbye
would break your fragile heart.

“Pain is good sometimes,” she said — this memory, this ghost inside my head –
this imprint of an old friend who has since ignored, forgotten, erased.
Pain is good sometimes, I say, surrounded by family and friends
creating immortal memories I cherish, wearing them with joy and honor,
like Auden’s rose on St. Cecilia’s Day long past the painful heartbreak
of having to say Goodbye.

Then what do you do when they forget about you — when you find yourself
preserving memories only you care to remember?  Is your heart big enough
to hold the dark empty void left behind each time you gave a part
of yourself away?  What happens when you vanish from their lives and
the vow you made to always remember turns into an eternal wish
that you could somehow forget?