the loss of an idea like a limb

The memories still hold fire and keep their own sort of promise. Even after all the time and all of the things since. I still can be gripped and then ripped apart by the memory of even one of the most benign moments. Those moments that were so common and comfortable once. They find me and make me wonder. While bringing me blinding and absolute pain. They are phantom pains like those of a lost limb. it's the loss of the idea behind those moments that still hold me. I have loved and I have lost, there is beauty in both. I'm scarred, scared and changed but where would I be--how would I be--who? Had those two not transpired against eachother. The idea of love now growing once again in my chest is testimony to my healing. Albeit unrequited, it is there, and it is real. Perhaps that is enough, for now.