Pretense

I don't want to miss you
I don't want to pine for you
So I hide from it,
Like the last snowflake in the sun
Clutching its crystals to itself,
Trying to hold its story together,
Hiding behind abstractions,
Hiding behind fantasies.
I tell myself you'll love me forever,
You'll be crazy about me
And this enforced time will make us realize
How we cannot be apart.
But I know it's just as likely
That we know nothing:
That life has something else in mind...
So I try to break free and create a new story,
But it can only be that -
A work of fiction, beautiful and poetic,
Powerful and moving,
Untrue, nonetheless.
Is it fair,
To anyone, that I do this?
Am I not prolonging the pain,
Holding on to the sword that pierced me,
Digging it in deeper to remind myself
That I was here
And it was glorious
And worth fighting for.
But was it?
Why didn't we fight, then?
Why did we surrender like cowards,
Unconvinced by their own arguments?
Why did we let it go, if it meant so much?
And why do I agonize over it now,
When it is too late...