It’s been three weeks.
Three weeks since I’ve last seen him, talked to him. Three weeks since I’ve seen his name on my phone. Three weeks since I’ve had the chance to wrap my arms around him one last time. But I didn’t. Three weeks since I’ve been close enough to kiss his lips, run my fingers through his hair, and smell his sweet scent. But I didn’t.
All I could do was thank him and walk away. Then foolishly text him and allude to words I’ll never be able to say.
Three weeks but it still feels like just yesterday. Three weeks but only three breaths since I’ve last thought about him. Three seconds since I’ve longed to hear from him. Three blinks since I’ve missed him.
I am getting stronger. I do understand that it’s for the best that I don’t reach out. That I don’t let my feelings and loneliness get the best of me. That I need to let him move on and try my hardest to do the same.
Here’s to another three weeks of wishing time could heal this pain.