C'était un amour séparé, pas perdu

It's strange how it arrives, not a slap in the face, a kick to the shins, or a knee in the stomach, but a wave. Light, warm, calm. I felt the wave, though I never thought that I would. And I felt it while staring into the distance, eyes fixed on the past. I saw up there, what I thought I would never lose, I locked eyes but did not feel what I thought was a part of me. And a soft sorrow took my body, and set it free. Not all of it however, for always is engraved a scar, a memory, a fantasy. But my heart no longer clings to perfection, or invents a connection, far from it. Or maybe exactly it, yes, because what I have now fits idealism like a glove. But something definitly touched me in that moment- the sensation of a goodbye, long drawn out, and the face of the boy I thought that I loved.