It’s almost 4 a.m. This is not a time I’m usually awake, as of late, but I woke up from a dream I can’t remember and I haven’t been able to fall back to sleep.
The house is quiet and still, but I’m not searching for you this morning. I haven’t been for days. I also haven’t cried in days, and though I haven’t felt the need, haven’t been fighting back anything, I know there’s still some crying to be done. I know I’ll be feeling great, I’ll be smiling at someone else, I’ll be enjoying their company, and suddenly an image of you will be projected in my mind like a muted flash of heat lightening in the distance that is so quick and soundless I’ll wonder if I had really even seen it or just imagined it.
Oh, I know you’re still there. You’re further away, but still present nonetheless. I refuse to invite you in or even dare you to come closer. But you will anyway because you never gave a damn about what I wanted or needed from you.
But I assure you this; when you do finally reach me, I will put up a fight. Because while you’ve been far away silently gathering up energy to make your move towards me, you didn’t even notice I’ve been over here gathering up mine.