Bereft.

feels like a lifetime between  the last time we spoke and now,
can't help but wonder how  things are,
how much you've changed- I know we both have,
 but knowing it's inevitable does not make it any more bearable.
"Everything is fine," I say that to myself  and whoever cares to listen,
hoping that those around me are more convinced than I am.
but I say it anyway. I want to hope. I want to make believe.
I'll settle for anything but the reality...
                   that I am here and you're there...
and that missing you  is the only thing that I have infinite ability to do.
The strange feeling that I spend half my time running away from settles once more
and all I can do is sigh.
 I am bereft.