Recovery from being hit by a M.A.C Truck

An innocent brush past one another after her cigarette crave.
She's was wearing a black cabby hat, black pants, a white button down, and black, red & white argyle vest.
Her almost sheer pink lip gloss adorns her full lips
I feel something I shouldn't feel below my waist
After one encounter she's invaded my spirit; forever etched.
A full semester later:
An awkward re-meeting over homemade chili and laughs among mutual friends,
Awkward hugs exchanged; trying to avoid lip to lip contact,
A mysteriously random text message about the kinetic energy shared between strangers.
Comforted by her small stature but big embrace.
Pay attention to my artwork, it speaks.
Three paintings told her I was angry, closed hearted, with many layers to get to the real me.
Fast forward, were dating and walking in love.
More like jogging.
Speed bump, speed bump, speed bump.
Crash...I've been hit and she's the driver.
She's leaving me,
My jog, walk, jog, walk pace isn't her speed.
She checked out before she ever said a thing.
I was willing to commit while she was packing to leave.
Hit me with the "one day we can be friends" thing.
Naw that will never be.
No love lost; we lost our kinetic energy.
I'm 100% recovered from all my injuries.