I only cried twice
this year
during
the holidays.
Once
was for a bookshelf
which I improperly put together
and needed to undo
and redo.
The other was for loving you.

I have you, I know, I have you
I just don't know where you went.
You're right here, I know, you're right here,
but I haven't seen you around for years.

You don't know this kind of fear
until it stares you in the face
as you're closing the door on it
mid-sentence
trying not to.
Knowing you shouldn't.

The second time I cried
during
the holidays,
I was afraid I would have to
undo
and redo
you.