you told me to meet someone else, to move on. i do. i meet new boys. i've met new boys.

but every one i meet, i compare to you. i wonder if his kisses would be as sweet or if his laugh will be as contagious. i wonder if the skin on his hands will be as rough or if his touch would be as gentle.

i wonder if i would see the same twinkle in his eye as i saw in yours when i would surprise you at work on your lunch break.

there was that one time, when our love was fresh and new and clean, and you told me a secret from your past and you told me of the regret and shame and guilt you felt. would he be as open, as trusting?

but then i ask myself if he would be as hurtful, if he would be as dismissing, if he would be as heart breaking as you have been.

and so. i will meet new boys and i will be happy. ok?

but i know that i'll still look for that twinkle and i'll still feel something in my chest when his laugh doesn't automatically bring a smile to my face like yours could.