What happened to us?

I tell myself to be
Strong, to reach down into
The depths of my soul and pull up,
Pull up what dignity and strength and
Courage I might find there—
There must be some left.

But for the past few days,
Hours, minutes, seconds,
I have been remembering all that
We were, and we were—
Perfect.

What happened to us, J?
Where did I go wrong, say or do
Whatever it is that I said or did
That changed you?
Was none of it real? Surely
Six weeks—forty-two days—forty-two times twenty-four hours—
And as many minutes and seconds—
Surely they couldn’t all have been forced.
They must have been real.
They felt real—especially midway to
The end.

So what happened to us?
Please, tell me. I cannot go on
Hurting much longer.
Then again, I’ve endured worse.

Did my leaving change your mind?
But we both knew I had to leave,
So that can’t be it. Enough.
Just tell me the truth:
What did I do? And, far more importantly,
Can we go back
To that perfection?