Not Enough Time

There isn't enough time.
Not yet.
I go through my days, working myself ragged to forget you.
But there isn't enough time.
I do my routine. I clean. I cook. I run errands, I do laundry. Dishes, floors, organize. Coffee, doors open and close, I sit and do my best to distract myself. 
But there isn't enough time.
I scroll through social media, pausing on your posts to try and figure out what's really on your mind. Your videos are watched over and over as I memorize every detail of your face.
But there isn't enough time.
I am preparing for my surgery. I make and accept calls, networking for myself and my family. I answer texts. I send snaps. I focus with everything that is in me to keep moving forward.
But there isn't enough time.
Out of nowhere, your face will cross my memory. That smirk that makes my heart skip. Your smolder that melts me every time. The memory of your touch. Your kiss. Your body melding into mine. Your voice echoes through my head, teasing and laughing, growling and whispering, promises made that had to be broken.
But there wasn't enough time.
Like wisps of smoke, curling closely around me before melting into nothingness, you disappear. My fingers try to hold on, but you slip away quietly into the void where I cannot follow. 
There isn't enough time.
Not enough time has passed to ease this ache where you once lived.
Not enough time has passed to heal the wound that I created by opening that profile.
Not enough time has passed to fix this.
There will be a time.
There just hasn't been enough yet.

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