What if he finds another?

What if he finds another?
And you don’t?

Will the memory of his face stay,
In your head?
And haunt you,
Like today,
In your frailty, or the next day?
In your bliss?

Will it feel like this forever?
Heavy on a few days,
Stinging on some others.
And you tell yourself you have to set him free, let him be, be happy when he’s happy, cut yourself some slack, and snap out of the endless, swirling questions in your mind.
And you say, hey, calm down, *deep breaths* you have actually set him free in your head, remember? And not bothered, for a long time, remember? But it happens.
This happens.
Thoughts assault you, sometimes, and most of the time.
Like this,
Ah like this, very so often, and the questions catch up, and the questions cling, and the questions rain and storm on you, and scourge your peace, and soak and leave you cold out there in the open, freezing and wretched.

How can thoughts be this cruel?
What did I do? What can I do?

What if he finds another?
It asks again, a knife to your throat,
The lump there, it keeps growing-
What if he finds another?
It asks louder.
And you don’t?

And you won’t ever?