Unwrapped Memories

I looked at my hands— The hands you used to hold. I looked at my face— The face you used to kiss. And I missed you. In my hands, I held a piece of you, A dress you gifted me, Left unopened for so long. I feared it— Feared the pain I caused when I left, Feared the hope you might have felt When you gave it to me. Now I hold it in my arms, After countless days and nights have passed. I miss you. So I hug the dress, Hoping to feel a piece of you, Imagining you once holding it, Picking it out, thinking of me. I hold it tighter, But that piece is gone— Yet in the dress, I didn't see sorrow or hope. I saw your love in choosing it, A love that doesn't change the past, But reshapes how I see the gift you gave.