an adventitious kind of adventure.

I'm not jealous,
any more than you would be.
I'm sort of over it, if that's what needs to be said.
I don't know what exactly I'm over,
but these words sitting on the tip of my tongue,
no longer exist as a reminder of you.
The songs, the poetry beneath melodies and beats,
no longer bring your face to my mind.
It's not that I never want to see you.
It's that,
I do see you now.
In a different light.
You'll always be around;
you're always around.