Funny

It's kind of funny how I keep expecting you to peel yourself off the wall of whatever building I'm in, and smile at me with those luscious lips of yours, match my pace with your spider legs and follow me because there's nowhere else you'd rather be but here,  at my side, glued to my shadow as if you yourself were it.

It's kind of funny how I look for you wherever I am as if I expect you to materialize in front of me, an apparition shown to me from a time that could have been but never was or will be.

It's kind of funny how I search for you in everything I do, or everything I read, or write as if you yourself are imprinted on the page or in my inkwell, as if you are one with my thoughts and feelings,  one with my hopes and nightmare.

It's kind of funny how this darkens my soul,  the knowledge that you and I are separated by a long string of unfortunate events that separate us from ourselves,  tears us from each other like little pieces of taape that were once inseparable but have now lost their ability to stick to anything else ever again.

It's kind of funny how despite the pain and suffering you put me through,  I'm still looking for you everywhere I am,  as if you were supposed to meet me there,  as if you were supposed to wait for me there, as if you were supposed to know exactly where I was supposed to be at that exact moment in time.

It's kind of funny how you destroyed me so ultimately while simultaneously knowing how to put me together again,  to make me stronger, to make me a better version of myself,  one that would no longer need you, or want you,  or even think about you.

It's kind of funny how you failed at pushing me away,  breaking me apart as if to show me I can do better,  that you are worthless.  You showed me how incredible you are for teaching me I need you not.

It's kind of funny how now that you are gone,  I'm left here all alone looking for you,  half a world away... knowing I still love you like that first,  unlikely day.