Off-roading

There was someone else.
He reminded me of you.
I don't know how I can say that because sometimes I think I don't even actually remember you, so much time has passed.
But there was something in my heart that felt like I felt with you, a bit.
I felt not alone.
I felt not unheard.
I felt not only seen, but understood.
So he held my hand and I ended the impossible year I had just made through.

I know I should wish that I held strong on the fort for you,
but I don't.
Was I even a fort for you to hold strong onto?
I know that the memory of me still lingers on your mind,
but I'm cautious and you're silent,
and I wonder if we really are two of a kind.

Sometimes I reach out to you and you answer right back;
sometimes I feel that when it comes to you I'm all alone in the dark.
I can't keep on like this, you know?
As if thinking of you was reasonable, as if I still had a chance.
How long can I keep on remembering? How long can I keep accepting what little you have left to give?
I wanted to kiss you and hold you close but I couldn't,
I wanted to give you my heart but you didn't want it.

And on my road I found a happiness I couldn't have with you,
because you're not here and I'm not there.
I gave myself to a life that was still there for me, and I felt alive.
But it only brought me closer to you.
It only made me want to hold you tighter,
and kiss you longer.
It made me want to look into the blue of your eyes,
where a world I didn't think existed does.
It made me want to be old together with you in the same bed,
and I choked and gasped for air, blowing snow-filled bubbles that would pop some day.
But you would never see them,
because our roads would never meet again.