Growing Apart the Newfangled Way

I don't think I hate you,

(I hate to think of who you were,

Only to learn anew what's since occurred.

I certainly hate the thought of how I thought of you,

But my urge to publicly rejoice being shot of you

Disappeared...as faithless friends are wont to do.)

'Cause I no longer need you.

(I remember when I once did,

Alone in a two-way desertion you directed.

I've since sailed back toward friendship, and landed.

It's one thing to be an island, and another to be stranded.)

On occasion, I crave you.

(Though my thoughts are content to remain elsewhere,

When I see you in other women, I stare.

Some of what you were imprinted on my basest lizard mind,

and though I know well to leave old flames behind,

To fuel of the same sort I'll never be blind.)

I miss the things we used to do,

(We can start where it's obvious,

Because that was always the most delicious.

I miss when my misbegotten urges felt realistic,

When temptation and desire were accomplished,

and even rewarded before they were punished.)

But I don't think I miss you.

(Because through no act of violence,

She no longer exists.

Nobody else can have the woman who got away,

Only the shadow since cast by her change.)