The Hardest Part

Time stopped in an instant,

the whole day standing still.

Was it truly you I saw,

or memory bent to will?

I pictured you smiling —

or maybe it was hope,

a stranger with your features

my lonely eyes could cloak.

My chest stirred with a flutter,

my thoughts unraveled free.

Could it be the girl who still

holds my heart in secrecy?

Probably not.

Coincidences pass each day.

It wasn’t you —

even if I wished that way.

You’ve gone beyond us now,

into a life anew.

Still, the image brought me comfort,

if only for a moment or two.

Because before love faded,

before everything fell apart,

we were friends first —

heart to heart.

And maybe that’s the hardest part:

not the dreams we couldn’t mend,

but losing the quiet comfort

of calling you my friend.