I wonder if he tossed the things I gave him, I wonder if he still wears the wrist watch I bought him for Christmas.
I wonder if he even wears the same cologne. I wonder if he touches her and closes his eyes and pretends it’s me.
I wonder if he’s afraid to accidentally say my name.
Does he miss the way I would laugh into the crook of his neck, does he miss my tongue in his mouth, does he think of me before he falls asleep? does he dream of me?
Does he miss the inflection of my voice, does he miss the sound of my laugh?
Does he regret his inability to love me, the inability to feel like he was enough?
Does he miss how I believed in him, does he miss his best friend?
Won’t I always be the quiet in your heart?
Did he foretell correctly and did he wake up back in his body, and miss me?
Does he look at me in other people’s lives, is he worried that when he’s ready to come back, I wont be here anymore?
Is he afraid that what we had really was love?
Did his heart flutter when he saw me walking beside the guy he used to know, did his heart sink into his stomach?
Did he go home that night and open up the secret folder where he keeps me?
Did he read my birthday card and hold it to himself because it smells like me?
Does he avoid drinking because it’ll make him honest, do his cousins know that he’s made a mistake?
Does he wonder where I am, and what I’m doing and with who?
Does he wonder if I got rid of the makeup and the socks and the potion bottle promises?
Does he look at my necklace he untangled when we were eighteen that he left hanging in his room, that he would stare at when we were children who couldn’t speak and think about the people we used to be and how we almost had it all? how he almost had it all?
Does he wonder if someone else is having my kisses, does he wonder about the day I’ll be with someone else, and the day I realize that I didn’t love him?
That this new love is pure and good and what I deserve. is he worried that I’m whole without him, that he was the thing that was wrong in my life?
Did he think that hurting me this way was the only option, the only way to keep me safe?
Does he wonder if we’ll ever cross paths again, does he still drive by my street, park outside my home in the dead of night and look at the silhouette against the moon, and remember the movies we used to watch? The christmas tree glowing against our skins, kissing in the door way?
