Café

I saw her from behind, her neck and back for more than an hour. It was at the café, the local coffee shop in the neighborhood. It all came back to me, the feeling of loving her. How her hand felt in mine in the cold morning walking down town, her whispering voice on walks by the sea, her warmth and comfort while talking things through. I knew all of her, by heart, remembering so much of her. The first months after our breakup I used to go over the memories in my mind - over and over again, like bad summer re-runs on TV. Sometimes I added other fantasies in there to, perfected the moments we had. Close to crazy I felt, close to her in a fake kind of way. In a way remembering made me hurt even more and eventually, completely heartbroken. So after some months I did let go of her in my mind. I did try to let the scar do its healing. Life scars us, it does so inevitably, weather we like it or not. The scars become an integrated part of us, of me. Different kinds of scars: small, wide and deep, scars long and deep as the ocean. I believe, our scars does not defines us, but helps to remember and helps us to feel the good in life. My scars build a kind of emotional evolutionary map of my life, in me. My map of feelings and remeberings.
So sitting there looking at her neck at the cafe, I remembered very millimeter of it, as familiar as the skin of my own hand and feelings of my own heart. This was a new situation and at the same time and I hesitated my thought. I sat, looking around at this most familiar space - the coffee house, her neck - and all those things. And I felt and saw in the singular moment it was. At the same time I realized all of this large and small gathered and forms into my life.
There is was, the truth, the insight - you never let go of a scar, it's always there and a part of you, you never let go of someone who hurt you. I have to learn to live with it but in a way that's not hurting. Remembering only the good and not missing them.
Common sense I believe.