Hitting Restart

I don't know if it's a crime to find someone new with the intention of getting over you.
I'm unsure if it is cruel, that for the first few weeks, I think of you in association to him.
What would you think if you found out?
Could I ever love him as much as I loved you?
Will I ever love anyone as much as I loved you? Will I ever let myself.
It's not a rebound; not a missed shot bouncing straight off the rim into my outstretched, ready arms.
No, that ball already dropped, already bounced repeatedly past me, slowing to a roll.
It's more of a restart.
He picks up the ball that has rolled across the sleek gym floor and places it gently into my hands.
I shoot again.