He's not you!

I went on a date.

A beach date.

But as I stood there, I couldn't help but think,

The last time I was at the beach was with you.

He was nice. Thoughtful. Established.

He opened my doors as you would.

He held my hand like you would.

His attention stayed on me, just as yours always did.

He ensured no shells hurt my feet, which you would do.

He did everything right, yet all I could think about was you.

You opened all doors.

I thought about opening his, too, as I always did for you,

But I wanted to reserve that for you.

When he held my hand, thoughts of yours came flashing back.

Holding hands has always felt sacred to me—something I rarely allow.

But I let him hold mine.

Why did I do that?

I couldn't help but think of your large hands,

The way they completely engulfed mine,

In a way his never could.

He seemed so happy to be with me,

As though he'd just found his next partner.

But all I could think of was you.

He lifted me to protect me from the shells and rocks.

And I thought of all the times you carried me—

How you'd lift me onto your back as we climbed the stairs to your bedroom.

He asked if I’ve ever been in love.

My mind drifted back to you as I told him no.

After the date, his scent lingered on me,

And all I could think was: it should've been your scent.

I didn't want his.

Even though we're no longer together,

It felt as though I was cheating on you.