The Epiphany

I still remember when you stopped breathing.

         Your eyes glazed over in perpetual thought
   And I wondered how many times you've left the toilet seat up,
             Ate from my fridge, and did not pick up the tab.
        I waited anxiously for that breath of life that would free me.
                  The moment seemed to last one moment too long.

                                Then it hit me.
              
            A whiff of minty toothpaste and Listerine
                    Mixed with Mexican food and a saltine cracker,
                But it was warm against my skin, and it was you.
                         I could not hate a single thing about you.
                     Eyes closed and I basked in the sensation a moment too long.

                                You spoke to me.

             I still cannot recall the exact words
                      As my mind had wandered from dimly lit restaurants
                 To shady taxi rides through the city. A faint smile at the memories
                            of poking old condoms with sticks we found by the river.
                       The way you took my hand and told me about forever.

                                     Now you've had an epiphany.

                I could not fathom the words for a moment.
                     Long dramatic pauses and an over cliched slow motion effect.
                  For a long time, I just stared at you, picturing what it would look like
                           If you were black and white--like an old fashion movie.
                                  Would the scene had turned out differently? I wonder.

                                         "It's time to see other people."

                I've never understood what was meant by that.
                      I see other people all the time. They pass me on the street,
             Shove me out of the way to get the last fresh lemon to make lemonade in the summer.
                           They offer a helping hand when the car's stuck in the snow.
                                     Different situations but they all leave a mark on your soul.

                                                  That's not what you meant.

             You wanted someone else to keep the left side of the bed warm.
    Someone else who could complain about how you constantly leave the toilet seat up,
                                 Eat all the food in the fridge, and can never hold a steady job
                            So she winds up always picking up the tab.
                                           Just when I was starting to get used to that.


                                      You're changing your clothes.

                 I watched you in silence as you struggled with your pants,
                              Didn't bother to button your shirt and grabbed your shoes.
           You seemed in a hurry as if you were expecting me to cause the next huge                  
                                                                  earthquake.
                                And you wanted to get to the door frame as quick as possible.
                                                  But you did not stop there and kept walking.

                                      I remained silent.

             A door slammed shut somewhere, echoing through the house of memories.
                         It seemed much colder, emptier, than other times you've left.
                 I guess the house knew it was permanent before it finally sunk in for me.
                       Funny how just when you start getting comfortable
                                          They always leave. Even funnier how no one is laughing.

     I still remember when you stopped breathing.
                But, when did your heart stop beating too?