I still look for your car outside my apartment every time I come home, thinking maybe you’ll be there. I know you’re not and that you’re probably never going to be again. Tears sting at my eyes as I write those words, but you’ve gone days without talking to me by choice. It’s so easy for you and you don’t even have a clue what you’re doing to me. I should let it go and move on but instead I wait, my stomach in knots with every hour that passes; what if I never hear from you again?
I deserve so much better- I deserve what you gave me before. Yet I still look for your car every time I come home, a flutter of hope inside of me before I turn the corner. I know you’re not there and I know you never will be, but I hold onto what you gave me before.