The misty question that the mind fills in when the ghost leaves us with unanswered questions. The puzzle pieces make my eyes weepy with judgement against myself for caring. The other woman calls and punctures all the wonderments of a double life and a third party love. I blame myself to lessen the pain and think what i saw was real. I blame him for the secrets and lies to the girl next store holding his heart while keeping watch on my body. I would say it is a shock that a person can cut and run so easily and leave to dust in the wind a story filled in through the television and a blog of mysterious messaging. Jealousy simmering in a pot of who am i and who is she and who are they what was he. The boogy man left with nothing but my own semblance of understanding and the triangle of truth, lies and the uncomfortable sense of never really knowing. The process. destroyed and lost and holding space for one day. the one day someday but the personal reminder of resilience to figure it out without the Others.