Sometimes

Sometimes I miss James.
I miss all that I thought he was and would be.
I convinced myself that I was loved and that was good.
I try so hard to revel in being alone -
This is the life I have and I am determined to live it for all it's worth.
But sometimes I remember how nice it was to curl up with a good-smelling man.
How good it felt to walk into the temple hand-in-hand.
How wonderful it was to laugh and play with his hair and share a midnight snack.
But then I remember that none of those things were real and honest.
I was wrong.  He was wrong.  We were wrong.
The memories are a terrible spiral of deceit and confusion.
And sometimes it makes me so very lonesome.