every time

probably the hardest part of our breakup
was the fact that we lived in a small town.
it wasn't the gossip -- although there was plenty of gossip.
no, it was everywhere we'd gone together,
and the fact that every time i went some place
i was reminded in some way of you.

every time i went to the diner,
by myself, with family, or friends,
i'd glance over at our booth in the corner,
recall joking how you no-so-delicately
smothered everything in ketchup
and remember the taste of your mouth afterward.

every time i'd go to see a movie at the drive-in
all i could think of was the smell of your car,
mixed with gasoline, popcorn, and smuggled beer.
i'd get so cold sitting there in the car,
and then remember the blanket
we used to huddle under to stay warm.

our old high school is probably the worst.
it's what i drive past every day on my way to work,
and is a bitter reminder of happier days.
i constantly ask myself what i did wrong,
only to remember those words you said:
"it's not you, it's me."

was it, really?