Promises

In the end all we had was each other,
And then all we had was ourselves.
It's a loss that has been counted.
A loss that I cannot pretend doesn't exist.

This year, on my birthday,
I promise to not be maudlin.
I promise to not count this year
As another failure,
Or to remember failures.

A failure of love to withstand our needs.

I promise to not think of you,
To not think of the parking lot,
Or of empty, meaningless sex.
But especially,
I promise to not think of
that beautiful promise
And how it shattered me.

Because in the end,
All you have is yourself.