Reminders

You've found me
unsure.
Your presence is unnerving,
as if
the past could be relived.
I was happy alone,
and coupling in loneliness,
dreaming of a faraway love,
content to life's little encounters
of carefree conveniences.
Never really thinking about what it was
that we lost
in never really finding ourselves on the same page.
A brief sojourn
in the highlight of my sunshined days ago,
a thought never perused,
a daydream idly whisked away,
misted and drifted as the sweet dew
is dried by my mourning breeze.
Forgotten but not lost,
a kindling reawakens,
just briefly enough
to remind me,
as the ember quickly fades,
what our fire looked like.
Is your mind made up?
Is there any point at all in this recurrence of
reminiscing,
or is it simply to remind me of what will never be,
or a reminder of what I thought I wanted,
or a predictor of what my future might be.
I don't know anymore,
and
that scares me
most of all.