Idealized

She said it sounds like you've idealized him,

and I sat with the word

the way you sit with a pebble behind a molar.

The pen above the notepad.

Not moving.

The tissue box on the side table—

the first tissue still folded in,

still waiting.

I've never needed it.

I tried the word on:

idealized.

Meaning: the picture you made was wrong.

Meaning: the grief you've been carrying

is for a fiction you constructed.

On the drive home I kept thinking:

but I remember the specific way

he stirred his coffee.

Counterclockwise. Every time.

Watching the window while he did it.

That's not a myth.

That's just a man.

She'd probably say

that's exactly what she means.