Where are you

I miss you. I can't think about you and carry on. So I try not to remember you. Then I poke at the memory of you to see if it still hurts-and hey it does!

If I knew that you were still here. Somehow, somewhere. That you are waiting for me. Is it even possible ?

I know I must go on. And there are those little "lookee here" moments where I find a bubble of pleasant discovery. Like an ad break. Life is not all monotony. All the same living is, since you've gone, a duty, not a privilege.

Take me away. I don't care how. Let it be quick.