There are no reminders of your inadequacy in the way she moves. But every time I step my walk reeks of it. Every swish of my hips is infested with the reminders of your shortcomings, of every word you never said. My smile, filled with the remainders of empty promises and hollow I love yous. My lips, the taste of regret, a taste equivalent to the feeling you get in your stomach just before you throw up all of the words you’ve never said. My hair reminds you of the times you hid your face in it because you just couldn’t bear to look at yourself.
Everything I am reminds you of everything you couldn’t be, all of the things you couldn’t give me, all the mistakes you made and all of the times you drowned in your own inadequacy only able to whisper “I’m sorry” when you came back up for air.
You pull her closer to push my memory further and even then, you can’t figure out why my memory still haunts you. You haven’t yet realized that all of the pieces that are left of me are hidden away in your smile and buried deep into your chest. So every time I see you, I see all of the pieces of me that I will never get back.