At a loss…

I keep reliving the last time I saw you.
The last time I held onto the hope that I’d see you again.
I think of how I’ve grown to attach my happiness into the discards of your attention;
The subtle vibration of a notification,
The hesitant ring of a like,
The satisfying reciprocal text backs.
I think of how aware my body has become to the stimulus of your lingering presence.
Of now your persistent loss.
I keep replaying the last time I closed my apartment door. 
Knowing that I’d see you again.
Walking up to my couch. Laying there grateful for the memories.
Oblivious to my knowledge that at this very moment, the moment I walk down the hall into my living room,
The very moment you step into the elevator and your suspended down 46 floors. We’d be in parallel motion growing more distant by the waking second.
I keep returning to this memory.
Knowing that the deceiving lingers of hope, obstruct me from this reality without you.
I know now, as the residue of your attention is all that’s left of you.
And my body is slowly trying to remember itself before you.
I am awakened by an alarming realization that your inevitable loss is out my control.
I hate how what’s left of your discards are the memories we shared.
And as much as I’d like to admit that I’m more aware; I’m more present now.
I am in a constant daze of reliving the past.
I know longing is one the easiest emotions to identify.
It’s so easy for us to recognize what’s missing.
And as hope slowly seeps through my vicinity.
I accept my longing for you.
I no longer fight it.
I don’t know where this puts me.
I am at a loss for words at the thought of the loss of you.