Pisaries Creator

Her initials were T.S.
The second letter in her first name is H.
The last letter of her last name is K. 
She has the same letter as my first name. 
Her initials shouldn't matter.
My life doesn't matter.
It's been 27 years. 

She moved to higher ground.
I wonder how far I have moved.
It doesn't seem far enough.
Backtracking too many times.
Running away from something.
Crashing into unnecessary walls.
Regretting how I hurt inside.
Guilty for bringing others down.

This season doesn't feel new.
Nothing but the same repetitive day.
The ring on her finger says it all.
She doesn't think about me.
I'm not on her radar.
That is the way it should be.
Still my heart hurts.

There is nothing to envy.
I lied to my young myself.
My heart doesn't need any proof.
Her commitment isn't to me.
It might've never been. 
Her faith is in another person.
One that did not hurt her.

All foolish existence yearns for meaning.
Even youthful stupidity from long ago seeks forgiveness.
Dreaming is plentiful.
Another ending to our time together.
My closed mouth might've changed the end.
I wouldn't be happy.
Living a kind of pseudo life.
One of black and white.

Her initials weren't enough for me.
Mine weren't rightly hers either.
Our commonality ruined everything.
Another wrong in what could've been right.
Right in her mind was wrong in mine.
She was a bystander in my trial.
I apologize for this wrongdoing.
The verdict hasn't been issued for me.