They've moved on. Embraced another and of course you're "happy", as you should be. But what do you do with the memories of wild tumbled sheets, sweat skinned angles, the deep irised moment of understanding? Intimacy exchanged...sight within, seen to the Nth degree; quantum eyes.
Meanwhile you bathe in animalistic tendencies of another kind because, let's face it, no love affair is ever similar and there is no comparison. There is only beast, tongue, sweat and the hope of something close to the center. That beat that means everything... and turns out can be so easily passed to another. You can pine for it, hate it even, but there is no communion quite like the one that Was. We are nothing but animals clamoring for the taste of blood flesh. Poor animals, are we, missing that what was and may be.
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