It’s only day 3.
I know I’m not going to hear from you and I can’t let you hear from me too.
I unlock the door and hope that I’d find you on the couch waiting for me.
I walk down the corridor and look back hoping you’d been following me.
I start the car and hope that you’re somewhere at the entrance of the parking waiting to say bye to me.
My fingertips remember how your skin feels.
When I take a breath I can lose myself in the memory of your scent.
The ghost of you haunts me. And even though I’m the one that called the shots, even though I’m the one that set the rules, I wish your ghost would come in your flesh and bones.
I want to tell you that I have my answer, but I’m afraid that you still don’t.
So I have to wait.
Now that you’re gone, I just have to wait.