Oh so.

Oh so I have seen you now, riding south, thinking of nothing in that car that always made me feel like loving you was a waste of my education. Cold and unhurried. I saw you without being noticed, an average person in a car you never saw, just another breath in to a frigid Christmas morning.  This is a window of you without me but too of the life that my diamond ring promised me. Your head should be filled with the memory of my hand sewn wedding dress, of the baby’s first step. Instead, there is the car, and your hair that needs trimming, the unfamiliar you. Strangely too rushed to hurry at all. Intimate as a pre-fab home. At first I think: cry, be disappointed, startle yourself with the shock. And then I breathe indifference and eventually remember I meant to send you a Thank You card, one year after you left. And I realize this is the you you’ve always been. Only I expected something different.