Reaching for Absence

I thought that I could reach out my hand
and grasp the pain
clench my fist tight
and let it seep through my fingers like water.
I thought that when you would leave
I could feel your absence
tangible and tender and evolving
and peeking at me from behind everything I encountered.
Instead, there is nothing.
No blade slashing my heart away
like I thought there would be.
Absence is the quality of something not being present.
So what is it the quality of?
Nothing.
So I suppose I had a revelation about absence.
Something obvious
yet something I never knew at the same time.
I cannot reach out my hand
and grasp the pain
clench my fist tight
and let it seep through my fingers like water.
I can only reach out my hand to nothing
A void of some intangible pain.
I can reach out my hand
and I can grasp for something
anything like mad
but my touch will never meet a thing
not even pain.
Nothing.
I reach out my hand one last time
and touch nothing
because you really are gone.