The Replacement Hypothesis (Rebound Love)

Lyrics

The hypothesis was simple.
A body for a body.
A presence to fill a presence-shaped hole.

The empty side of the bed wasn't an ache, it was a clinical fact. 
A vacuum defined by its edges. 
And science, you know, abhors a vacuum.
So I picked up my phone on Tuesday, 11:30 PM.
Cold glass under my thumb.
A new profile picture, taken in the bathroom mirror.
The swipe was the start of the fieldwork.

And you… you are the replacement hypothesis.
My independent variable.
My one controlled study that lost its control group the moment you walked in the door.
I am testing for signs of life. 
My own.

You left your grey merino sweater on the chair by the window.
It doesn't smell like him. It doesn't smell like me.
It smells like you, and wool, and the bar on Third Street.
I am collecting data points.
The way your key sounds in the lock... a half-step sharper than his.
The brand of coffee you buy... dark roast, not medium.
I log them in my head, a lab notebook with invisible ink.

Because you… you are the replacement hypothesis.
My independent variable.
My one controlled study that lost its control group the moment you walked in the door.
I am testing for signs of life. 
My own.

I read a paper from 2014.
Dr. Tara Marshall, I think.
She said this could be… reconstructive.
Higher self-esteem.
Not a distraction, but a transition.
I held onto that word. *Transition*.
But you're not a bridge. 
You're a shoreline I stumbled onto in the dark.
And I am a terrible scientist.
My hands are shaking too much to hold the beaker steady.
The observer is contaminating the results.

The hypothesis is… inconclusive.
You are not a placeholder.
You are a person, with a grey sweater and a laugh that doesn't fit my dataset.
And this feeling… 
this isn't data.
It's just… feeling.
So what's the next step?